


Deal with the Devil

by GroovyKat



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroovyKat/pseuds/GroovyKat
Summary: Coaxed out to a bar by Martha after a rather harrowing adventure, the Doctor bumps into a man who makes an offer he simply cannot refuse.





	1. Lux

**Author's Note:**

> A very short little piece that I have to get out. I got a little hooked on Lucifer over the weekend and wondered .... hmmmm ... The Doctor's deepest desire ... 
> 
> I hope this works ...

The Doctor struck a rather thoughtful and purposeful stride as he dipped his head into his shoulders and thrust his hands deeply inside his trouser pockets.  To anyone observing his casual walk and the curious glint inside his deep brown eyes, they might assume that he was casually and curiously excited about whatever plans he’d set for the evening.  To anyone who knew him better, the appearance of a divot in his right cheek set by the grit of his teeth meant that he was here under protest.

Although he was full of love for a party and overflowing with excitable manic energy, the Doctor rather vehemently disliked the club scene.  Oh, he was good to let loose and down a few inhibition-lowering beverages in the name of living it up like the locals.  He could throw down as well as the next person.  But when it came to being in a venue full of nearly naked individuals out to score a one-night-only shag with a complete stranger, the Doctor would much rather opt out, ta.

He quite honestly loathed the olfactory onslaught of arousal, pheromones, stale alcohol, and expensive (and sometimes not expensive enough) colognes and perfume that was assault him the very moment that he entered the venue.   It was a melting pot of odours that mixed together about as well as oil and water, and he had a fairly limited ability to utilize his respiratory bypass in order to escape it.

Add to that the incessant thumping of sub woofers that gave each and every song an overpowering and oversaturated bass line that actually registered on any nearby Richter Scales, and this Time Lord risked being locked up in the vortex for days with a death-level neural implosion event.

Oh Might Rassilon, Warrior and Champion of all Time Lords, how had he let himself be talked into this?  How had he let Martha talk him into not only landing in 21st century Los Angeles, but to also accompany her to the hottest nightclub in the City?

How?

He felt Martha’s gait slip just slightly as her hip and hamstring protested the uneven surface of the cracked and rather poorly maintained sidewalk and remembered.  If a fit of apology as he patched her up after she was injured in an altercation on Rahuliam-6, he had promised to take her anywhere she wanted to go.  Any time, any place.  All she had to do was ask, and he promised to input the coordinates into the TARDIS navigation and take her there.

Now.  In his defence, he was the pilot of a brilliant time ship that had the ability to travel absolutely anywhere and any time in the entire universe – Gallifrey rather sadly omitted.  With a companion as brilliant and as perfectly cultured as Martha, he expected her to ask for cocktails on the moon, or a ride along the rapids along the rings of Saturn.   

He could have taken her to when they built the Pyramids of Giza, or he could introduce her to Marie Curie, or even follow along the flight path of Amelia Earhart and together they could solve the mystery of what happened during that doomed flight.

Oh, the options were endless.

So with all those delicious options at their disposal, the Doctor would openly admit to being hotly disappointed that his otherwise cultured and brilliant companion had chosen to go to a nightclub on Earth inside her own century where there would probably be no one of any real historical note to encounter.

How utterly disappointing was this evening going to be?

“Oh Doctor,” Martha crooned excitedly beside him.  “I can’t believe that we’re actually going to Lux!”

“Neither can I,” he breathed with a sigh as he lifted his head to the sky to ask the deities to help him make it through the night.

Martha giggled against his arm.  She’d curled herself around him the moment that they’d stepped out of the TARDIS and begun the relatively short walk toward the club.  Her excitement rippled off her in vibrating waves that were practically visible.

“Are you really sure about this?” The Doctor questioned with an additional bit of volume to his voice as he warred against the roar of a sports car engine revving at the curb beside them.  “You have all Time and Space at your disposal, and you want to go to a _nightclub on Earth_?”

She gripped tighter around his arm and nodded rapidly.  “Doctor.  Lux is the most exclusive club in the Northern Hemisphere!  People line up outside all night and never get in.”

“Sounds like a waste of an evening if you ask me,” he grumbled somewhat petulantly.  “We could be skimming the surface of Jupiter’s third moon, or sipping cocktails on the very edge of the belt of Mehensia watching the universe birth brand new solar systems.”  He looked down at her with wide eyes of encouragement.  “Creation, Martha!  We can fly through the clouds and asteroid fields of a brand new constellation…”

“Sounds pretty dangerous if you ask me,” she countered with a one-sided smile. 

“Nah,” he drawled.  “The TARDIS wouldn’t let anything happen to us.  She’s very protective of her Time Lord and his companions.  She can dance through the asteroids with a careful and majestic choreography…”

“I really, _really_ , want to go to this club, Doctor,” Martha interrupted him with her own sigh.  “And you promised me that we’d go wherever I wanted.”

“I know, but-“

She lifted her arm to point across the street.  “And I want to go there.”

He could already feel the tremor of heavy bass beneath his feet, but he looked up anyway.  Across the street was a bland looking building.  Non descript, really, aside from the carefully carved (or moulded, knowing the lazy nature of the human race) stone doorways.   Already there was a line that started at the front door and extended along the street for at least two blocks. 

Oh, this was going to be a very long evening.

Such was his abhorration to spending his night in such Hell, he couldn’t even find the will within him to get maybe a little bit excited about the Disney sign that glowed bright atop the lighted Ghiradelli lettering that promised both Disney merchandise and Chocolate – two of his favourite Earth-Based things. 

“So,” he sang on a long note.  “What are we doing then?  Did you want to stand against the wall all night in line to experience what I expect the vast majority of club goers experience when attending this venue, or-“

“I want to get _in_ ,” she answered him with a roll in her eyes and a shake of her head.  She hugged herself against his arm and looked up at him with an impossibly imploring expression.  “Can you make that happen, Doctor?”

“Can I make that-“ he blustered with affront.  “Can I make that _happen_?”  He looked to the sky.  “She asks me if I – the Doctor – has what it takes to bypass an entire line of people to get into a … night .. club…”  His words slowed and he looked back down at her with disdain.  “Is this what you _really_ want to do tonight, Martha?  There are so many better options out there than a night in a noisy, smoky bar full of people only out to mate with another member of their species.”

Martha huffed with an exaggerated roll in her eyes.  “That’s not what clubbing is for,” she argued impatiently.  “It’s to go out and have some fun…”

“Which, for your species, is all about finding a temporary mate to rut with for the night,” he finished with a curl in his lip.  “Which, really, is a pointless endeavour when you have the capability of being able to sate any restlessness you may feel in that regard with some privately undertaken autoerotic stimulation engaged in before bed.”

Martha’s eyes were wide as the Doctor continued.

“Where there aren’t any actual feelings of genuine physical or emotional attraction, and the act is not for the purposes of procreation, I hardly see the point in actively hunting a member of the gender by which you want to enjoy a good rut with, and risking the myriad of emotional and physical maladies that come with …”  he twisted his hand in the air in a gesture that suggested he was looking for the right words.  “With _that_ kind of thing.”

“I take it you’ve never had a one-night stand?”

He actually coughed out a rough sound of utter indignation.  “I most certainly have not,” he barked.  His hand then flew to the back of his neck, where it shifted up and down in a sheepish kind of rub.  “At least not one I’ve actively pursued.  There might have been one or two circumstances over the centuries where I found myself caught up in some rather unfortunate compromising situations.”

“Oh?”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked away from her.  “Yes.  Well.  Moving on.”

“Oh,” she answered with a deep and throaty chuckle.  “ _This_ is a side of you I’ve never seen.  Anyone I might have heard about?”

He stepped away from her – enough to pull her off his arm – and then dropped his arm to clutch at her hand with a tightness that was uncomfortable.  “You want to get into this club, Martha Jones?” He asked with the grin of a man who was taking on a challenge.  “I’ll get you into that club.  We won’t even need to wait in line.”

She let out a squeal of thrill when he tugged her into a run across the road.

“You just wait, Martha Jones,” he hollered excitedly as he spun to skip sideways and waved to a driver of a car that skidded to a stop to avoid hitting them.  “Oh.  So sorry.  Cheers for stopping.  Much appreciated.”

Martha gave her own wave to the driver as she was pulled up over the short curb and onto the sidewalk.  “Sorry!  We’re British!  We’re used to traffic on the _other_ side of the road!”

The Doctor pulled her to a stop and looked toward a stoic and unmoving bouncer as he waited for Martha to catch her breath.  “Oh.  He’s a big fella, isn’t he?”

Martha stepped in close to the Doctor and pressed her chin into his arm as she peered across his shoulder.  “So how do you plan on getting in,” she queried with a smile.

The Doctor grinned and held up a flat brown leather wallet.  He flipped it open and looked at her as best he could with her standing practically to his rear.  “With the psychic paper, of course.” 

“Oh,” she sang excitedly as she stepped around him to stand at his side, her hand in his.  “And just who are we going to be this evening, Doctor?”

He started to walk and leaned down slightly to speak at her with a husky whisper. “Who do you want to be, Martha, Jones?”

“Surprise me,” she answered back with a smile.

That made him laugh.  “Then don’t get upset with me if you don’t like who I –“  He yelped when the wallet was snatched out of his fingers with a _yoink_ against his ear.   He gasped to watch Martha march forward with his psychic paper in her fingers.  “Martha Jones!  Come back here with that.”

 

~~oooOOOooo~~

 

The Doctor had to admit that the interior of the club wasn’t quite what he was expecting.   But then again, it really was.  As expected, it was full of barely dressed women all undulating with deliberate sexuality to loud thumping music with enough bass that had the vibrations of the sub woofers tickling up through his chucks and into his groin.   Oh, but perhaps that was the point, then.  Drive a man to arousal before he could inhale the pheromones of a passing female.  The desperation to sate the growing need inside a man’s trousers would certainly lead to several drinks being bought for any and all females he might consider attractive, which would increase bar revenue. 

He sniffed in through one nostril that lifted his lip lightly when a light-skinned brunette wearing a skin tight halterneck top with leather pants strode by leaving a wave of pheromones in her wake.  She winked at him and then looked at her drink as though asking for another. 

Superior.  Time Lord.  Biology.

She’d have to get her free drinks from someone else tonight.  Her game wasn’t going to work on him.

He looked back into the main club and inhaled a centering breath.  Martha had taken off to the bar to get herself a cocktail as soon as he’d found himself a good viewing platform.  This position served two purposes.  One:  People watching – and oh, how he did love to do that.  And two: He found that the vibrations from the floor seemed somewhat lessened (or redirected away from his groin) if he crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned over the railing to look at the dance floor below.

The club had a very classy feel to it, despite the obvious sexuality of the place.  It could have done without the scantily dressed women dancing on tabletops, but it did seem to add to the allure of the venue.  It was sinful as much as it was regal.  Luxurious on all fronts, really.  The clientele was very attractive.  Although there didn’t appear to be a single celebrity in amongst the crowd, he couldn’t see a single reveller that wouldn’t have been able to grace the cover of GQ magazine.

He also couldn’t see a single reveller that was obnoxiously drunk.  It seemed that every person in the club was either drinking very responsibly, or had enough experience in drinking copious amounts of alcohol to have given themselves a certain tolerance to the drink to not to fall down blindly intoxicated…

…Either that, or the security staff were highly efficient in ejecting anyone who crossed the line from being happy to being completely drunk.

“Wow these drinks are expensive,” Martha practically panted as she appeared at his side with a martini in each hand.  She passed him one.  “A $20 mix of Vodka and Vermouth, and no free TV.”

…Or, it appeared, it was too expensive to have a few too many.

The Doctor gave her a smile as he took the glass from her hand and sniffed at its contents.  “Shaken and not stirred?”

Martha shook her head and bumped his hip with hers.  “You’re not dressed like Bond,” she chided him with amusement.  “So no talkin’ like him.”

He shrugged and took a small sip, allowing the drink to wash across his tongue before swallowing.  He winced a little at the burn of alcohol down his throat.  He never was a Martini drinker.  His voice was slightly croaked.  “Nice.  Thanks.”

“Yeah, well you better make it last,” she crooned after a small sip of her own.  “We didn’t exactly bring along a lot of money.  Cover change took almost half of what we bright with us.”

“I’ve got us covered,” he assured her with a soft smile.  “So enjoy yourself without worrying about the cost, okay?”

She watched a handsome and well built man walk along the floor slightly below them and let out an appreciative breath through her pursed lips.  “Oh.  I intend to.”

His brow arched at the way her posture shifted to allure in the man’s presence.  He let his eyes fall to the man, all of six-feet tall, dark skin, and an almost ethereal air to his stride.  He looked to Martha with warning.  “Just so you know.  We arrived here together, and we will leave in the same way.  Both of us walk away from here, your hand in mine, back to the TARDIS.”

She nodded, but seemed distracted by the handsome stranger.

“I mean it, Martha,” he warned darkly.  “We are in your century, but not your actual timeline.  I am not going to let you get into any trouble that will…”

“I know,” she promised him with an innocent, and appreciative smile.  “I’m not here to play around.  But that doesn’t mean that I am not going to appreciate what is actually on offer here tonight.”  Her expression shifted to longing.  “God knows I’ve had nothing but _you_ to look at for the last little while.  It’s nice to see something _different_.”

“I’m really trying hard not to be offended by that,” he remarked with a petulant lift in his lip.

She lifted her eyes to his.  “Are you _jealous_ , maybe?”

“Time Lords don’t get jealous,” he remarked coolly. 

“Oh course not,” she breathed.  She inhaled deep to talk inaudibly beneath the music.  “Just possessive, and flirtatious, and unavailable…”

“What was _that_?”

A very smooth, and very suave British voice crooned from behind them.  “I believe the lady is lamenting the fact that her companion this evening is somewhat out of touch with what it is she truly desires.”

The Doctor spun quickly and stepped a single half-stride forward to put himself in between Martha and whoever it was that had approached him.  His expression and his posture was one of warning.

“Can I help you?”

“No,” their stranger said with a pearlized smile surrounded by dark and artfully crafted stubble.  He looked between the pair with a knowing expression.  “But I believe I might be able to help you.”

“Unlikely,” the Doctor challenged with a tip in his head as he tried to analyze the unidentifiable aura surrounding the man.  “I mean to say that it’s usually _me_ who does the helping, and I am not in any need of assistance right now.”

“I beg to differ,” he argued smoothly as he smiled over the edge of a short tumbler of whiskey, neat.  “There are always needs and desires that aren’t always …” he looked toward Martha with a smooth smile.  “Met.”

Martha giggled with light embarrassment at the leering look of admiration from the man and ducked her head with a blush.

The man looked back toward the Doctor and shifted his face close as he looked piercingly into his eyes.  “You have them.  Don’t you?  Desires.  Needs.  What is it that you need most.  What do you desire more than anything.”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed.  He captured the man’s look and offered an equally piercing stare of his own.  “Your mind games won’t work with me,” he warned darkly.  “I’m not as weak minded as the rest of the humans you have in your bar.”

“Club,” he corrected as he straightened and looked down toward the Doctor with a glint in his eye.  “Humans?  Well.  That’s a term you don’t nearly often enough hear enough these days when describing others.”

The Doctor nodded slowly.  It was clear that he was sizing up the man in front of him.  “I’m the Doctor,” he said finally with a smile across his cheeks and a thrust of his hand into his trouser pocket.  He sipped at the Martini and gave him an expression of challenge.  “And just who might you be.”

“The owner,” he answered with a smile.

“I’m not up to date on the current social scene,” the Doctor said with a disinterested shrug.  “So you will have to forgive me if I have to ask you again.  Just who might you be, then?”

“Lucifer,” he answered as he extended a hand in greeting.  “Lucifer Morningstar.”  He grinned widely at Martha’s hitched breath.  He leaned down with a cheeky smile.  “You are welcome to consider me the _Devil_ if you wish.”


	2. Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Lucifer learn exactly who each other really are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to preface this one with the following statement: If you are particularly sensitive about religion please DO NOT read this chapter. I am not writing to offend anyone, but I am not certain that this won't offend. I am writing a fictional piece and using a little bit of artistic license that just might cause a little offense to those of you who don't like questions being raised about the Holy Father and his motivations.
> 
> Lucifer has been pretty blunt about his Father in the TV show and used some pretty remarkably harsh words to describe him. I am running with that. I am also running with the Doctor and his own questions of blind belief. I am in no way insulting anyone's faith... And if you read past this and do get offended, then please don't ask me for apology or kick up a fuss about it because you have been warned. (of course I know that is inviting the trolls... but what can you do?)
> 
> Just remember that we are dealing with the Devil here ... he's not exactly going to be saying wonderful things about the Holy Father, is he? 
> 
> But off that ... Thanks for the terrific reception to this story ... I certainly hope that I keep you entertained!

 “I’m not up to date on the current social scene,” the Doctor said with a disinterested shrug.  “So you will have to forgive me if I have to ask you again.  Just who might you be, then?”

“Lucifer,” he answered as he extended a hand in greeting.  “Lucifer Morningstar.”  He grinned widely at Martha’s hitched breath.  He leaned down with a cheeky smile.  “You are welcome to consider me the _Devil_ if you wish.”

“Nah,” the Doctor drawled with a dismissive wave of his hand as he looked away with disinterest.  “Already met him, ta.  Middle of a planet orbiting a black hole.  Interesting fellow, really.   Red skin, big sharp teeth, great big and curled goat horns.”

“Really?” Martha breathed with fascination.  Her eyes were wide and full of curiosity.  “When was this?”

The Doctor shrugged.  His bottom lip jutted out just slightly as he swallowed hard.  “Oh.”  He cleared his throat and looked down at the tips of his Converse.  “Long time ago now.”

“Okay,” she breathed curiously.

“Me and Rose,” the Doctor continued with his demeanour picking up slightly with the retelling of an adventure.  “Managed to land the TARDIS on a sanctuary base on a planet that was orbiting a black hole.  Krop Tor.  That’s what it was called.”  He scratched at his sideburn as he blew out a breath through pursed lips.  “Krop Tor,” he repeated slowly.  “Quite an adventure we had, me and Rose.”

Martha exhaled a long breath, managing to disappointedly mutter a single syllable word that always seemed to clench at her heart.

“Anyhow.  Long story short.  I lost my TARDIS, fell down a hole, and ended up face to face with the Dark Prince of lore.  I destroyed the prison that was holding him in place.  Rose sent his consciousness into a black hole.”  He looked toward Lucifer with tired and somewhat judgmental expression on his face.  “So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t _consider you the Devil_.”  He pursed his lips and then broke out into a smile.  “Unless you’re hiding a set of horns, ravenous fangs and crimson skin underneath that expensive designer suit of yours.”

Lucifer snorted with disgust.  He quickly hid that behind nonchalance as he brushed his fingers along the cuff of his sleeve as though to flick off dust.  “Perfectly humanoid, thank you.”  He lifted his eyes to the Doctor and tipped his head to one side.  He allowed a rather coy smile to shine through slightly parted lips.  “Made in the image of himself, you see.” 

“Ahh,” the Doctor hummed through an open mouth.  “Referring to your _God_ , I presume.”

“My _father_ ,” Lucifer corrected shortly.  “And I prefer not to refer to him by _that_ name if you don’t mind.  He is a celestial being, I’ll give him that much.  A _Dictator_ , perhaps.  An all-powerful and selfish bastard if you ask me.”

The Doctor was intrigued.  Perhaps this evening might have a redeeming facet to it after all.  May as well engage.  It had been far too long since he had been able to discuss divinity and religion without inadvertently offending someone…

…Humans were so very easily offended, weren’t they?

“So,” he queried curiously.  “You’re suggesting that the creator isn’t quite as _divine_ as the texts will have us believe?”

“Quite the opposite,” Lucifer offered with a waggle in his brow.  The waggle shifted to a pinch at the centre of his brow.  “The old testament might have been more accurate than the nonsense written from the newer books.  Not really one for forgiveness, my Dad.  He leans far more toward the side of punishment and damnation than even I’ve been credited with.”

“Well,” the Doctor purred as he leaned his elbow down onto a round cocktail table and pressed his fist into his cheek.  “This _is_ quite fascinating.  Do go on.  I love to hear individual opinions and interpretations of religion and the Holy Father.”

Martha rolled her eyes with annoyance.  “Are you really going to do this, Doctor?”

He hummed and rolled her eyes toward her.  “What’s that, Martha?”

She flicked her finger in between the two men.  “A religious discussion.  Doctor.  You know that two of the most dangerous topics in this entire universe to broach are Politics and religion.  And no one is more dangerous to engage in a conversation of that magnitude than you are.”

“Well,” he defended with a bluster.  “One:  I can think of several more topics far more _dangerous_ to discuss than politics and religion.  Two.”  He frowned in thought a moment and then shook his head.  “Never mind.  There wasn’t a second point.  A moot point.  A point not worth mentioning, then.”

Martha inhaled a deep and long suffering sigh.  But despite her attempt to make him think that she was annoyed, she smiled warmly and shook her head.  She pushed her empty martini glass across the table with her finger and then curled her hand around his glass.  “If you’re not going to drink this…”

“Go right ahead,” he offered with a wink and a smile.  “Enjoy your night, Martha Jones.  You deserve it.”

“You’re right.  I think I do.”  She brought the glass to her lips and drew back deeply on it even as she held out her hand to him in an obvious request for money.

“No need,” Lucifer ground out smoothly as he took that hand in his and rubbed the pad of his thumb along her knuckles.  “Go to the bar and Tell Maze that I’m taking care of your tab this evening.”

“Maze?” she panted out awkwardly as she desperately tried not to lift her other hand to fan away the blush that was creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

“She’s not hard to miss,” he assured her smoothly.  “I expect that she’s already preparing you a drink.  Martini.  As dirty as a Babylonian whore.  Three olives?”

Martha shuddered as she nodded in the affirmative.  Her breath drew in deep and long.  Vaguely, she thought she may have heard the Doctor speak her name in worried question, but she ignored him in favour of looking into the eyes of the man who held her fingers so tenderly inside his.  “I.  I think.  Yes.  Yes.”

Lucifer’s mouth stretched into a smile.  His voice purred out long.  “Oh, but you have some secret desires inside you, don’t you, Martha Jones.  Desires not quite suppressed, but certainly sheltered behind your own insecurities.”

She swallowed thickly and nodded with jerked movements.  Her thoughts was captured within his heady gaze and she found her mouth suddenly dry.  “Yes.  Yes, I do.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed with a smile.  His voice lowered deep and almost dangerous to her ears.  “And what is it, then, that you desire most?  What is it that drives you, Martha?  What do you want more than anything else?”

“A-Anything?” She stuttered past a dry tongue, riveted by his gaze.

“Name me one pleasure that you want above all else,” he pressed smoothly with a lick at his lip.

“Oh and I think that’s just about enough,” the Doctor barked as he slapped his hand down on the join between Lucifer and Martha to separate them.  “I didn’t bring Martha here to have a cheap penny-store telepath try to get in her head.”

Martha backed off from Lucifer, but was no less enamoured by him regardless of the Doctor’s words.  She managed to lick the roof of her mouth to moisten her tongue and swallowed shallowly. 

Lucifer, however, while not particularly affronted by the Doctor and his apparent possessiveness, levered the Time Lord a somewhat heated glare.  “I am _not_ a telepath.  I would thank you to _not_ make an accusation like that again.”  He rolled his shoulders and then shuddered with obvious disgust.  “You really don’t need to be a telepath to know what’s running around in the minds of humans, anyway.  They are pretty much all wired in the same way.”  His mouth stretched into a toothy grin.  “And I must say, I do like that they are all so very singularly wired inside their heads.  It does make for an interesting lifestyle.”

The Doctor took a step forward and narrowed his eyes.  He lifted his chin and drew his glasses from his breast pocket.  “One that you’ve no doubt settled on yourself,” he remarked as he slid his glasses up along the bridge of his nose.  He lifted his chin to regard Lucifer with an analytic look.  “Pleasure.  It is a very strong driving force, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” Lucifer purred through a smile.  “It certainly is.”  His smile turned to a parted lip expression of intense question.  “It’s what drives us all, Doctor.  Even you.”

The Doctor scrutinized him through non-prescription glass lenses for a long moment before he responded to Lucifer’s remark.  He let his jaw hang as he pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth in concentration and just.  Looked.

After a moment, he pulled his head back and whipped his glasses from his nose.  “Nope,” he stated with a jovial pop to his p.  “Well.  That isn’t to say that I don’t routinely let myself be led by pleasurable whims here and there.”  He slid his glasses into his breast pocket and then flicked his long coat open the thrust his hands into his trouser pockets.  “Not _pleasure_ in the way that you’re alluding, of course.”

Lucifer stepped back and deliberately mirrored the Doctor’s pose.  His expression was of curious fascination.  “And what is it that _you_ find pleasure in, Doctor?”

The Doctor didn’t miss the way that Lucifer’s eyes flared somewhat sanctimoniously when he spoke the word “you”.  He also caught the way he sharpened the pronunciation of the syllables in his name, with exaggeration on the end of the word. 

He wasn’t going to let it goad him, however.  Instead the Doctor merely took a short stride backward and gave the Prince of Darkness one of his trademark, smart-aleck grins.

“What pleasures the Doctor,” he answered almost breathlessly.  “Well.  That is a very long and detailed list.  Travelling through time and space really is at the number one spot of my lists of pleasure.”  He swallowed and rolled his eyes off to the left as he rocked himself forward slightly.  “Stepping onto a new planet.  New ground beneath my feet.  Different sky above my head.  Oh,” he sang with a glint in his eye and a smile upon his face.  “Now that.  _That_ is unspeakably pleasurable.”

He started to walk cautiously around the table, and around Lucifer.  His hands were still deeply ensconced in his trouser pocket.  His eyes darted guardedly around the venue.  “I take pleasure in the small things that surround us – like the morning song of the gravadirol on Episolia, or the trill of the trunkike in the early evening.”

“Boring,” Lucifer belled out much like a warning gong on amateur night.  He strode toward the Doctor with a fairly menacing grin across his cheeks.  “Utter garbage.”

“I think not,” the Doctor barked in reply. 

“I’m not referring to the minor pleasures that give you a little flutter of something in your chest.”  He flicked his fingers against his chest to punctuate his words.  His hand then snaked down along his belly the poke his thumb into the waist of his trousers.  He leaned forward with a sneer.  “I’m talking about the _carnal_ desires that drives all of mankind.  The pleasures of the flesh.  The thumping, pounding, raw and unbridled passion that threatens to rip your soul apart if it isn’t sated.”

The Doctor watched Lucifer with a brow seated high and arched on his forehead.  He seemed rather indifferent to the stalking passion rippling from the posture held by Lucifer.  “You’re talking about sex,” the Doctor answered blandly.  He waited for Lucifer to react before continuing.

“You got it in one,” Lucifer cheered with a pump of his finger into the air toward the Doctor’s chest.  “I’m talking about the desires that make my dad blush.”  He grinned and passed a look toward Martha, softening his voice to a purr.  “Or make a worthy female blush at any rate.”  His eyes shifted back to the Doctor.  He kept his voice at a low purr.  “Surely you aren’t so repressed that you have no desire-“

“I really don’t,” the Doctor interrupted with a shrug in his shoulders.  “Superior biology and centuries of training at the academy by equally repressed professors does give way to a rather persistent lack of interest in the opposite sex for anything other than friendly companionship.”

“Oh,” Lucifer choked out as he jerked slightly backward.  “Oh, I would hate to be you, then.”

“Sometimes I hate being me, too,” the Doctor admitted with a shrug and a smile.  “But I am what I am, and I don’t intend to change myself anytime soon.”

“No no no,” Lucifer peppered out with a disbelieving shake in his head.  “I can’t believe for one second anything that you’re saying.  No man has the ability to completely shut off the physical drive to seek out his own pleasures.”  His brow knitted together and his eyes pinched in analysis of the pinstriped conundrum standing ahead of him.  “I wouldn’t be here if it was _that_ easy to condition yourself to ignore the carnal urges.”

“What about the priests that take a vow of celibacy…”

“Oh, well.  They are the most easy to corrupt,” Lucifer finished with a grin.  He waggled a brow and tipped his head with arrogant self-congratulations.  “It’s so easy to corrupt them that I’ve lost interest in even trying.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and turned his head to look at Lucifer with a sideways glance.  “Why would you even _want_ to try?”

Lucifer’s face brightened with a gleeful smile.  “Because it’s what I do,” he declared proudly.  “Tempt those who should not be tempted.  Find out your ultimate weakness and desire.”  He grinned darkly.  “And then exploit those desires in the most illicit and sinful manner.”  His smile of pride fell and he let out a tired breath.  “Well, such is my reputation anyway.  Temptation being the pathway to evil, which then leads to Hell, and to my front door.”  He rolled his eyes and shrugged with obvious boredom.  “And let’s face it.  I can understand the reputation.  Things would get pretty boring in Hell if I didn’t have any sinners to punish for all eternity.”

The Doctor’s narrowed eyes pinched further.  “With the Holy Father being so full of forgiveness, I would think that Hell is rather sparsely populated right now.”

“That statement is wrong on several counts,” Lucifer corrected quietly.  “Full house, and not as much forgiveness as you think there is.  It’s much harder to ascend than it is to fall.”

“Don’t I know it,” the Doctor murmured to himself.  “I believe the universe holds me to a debt with an amortization that extends well beyond all eternity.”

Lucifer snorted.  “Then it’s a good thing for you that my family only watch over this insignificant rock, isn’t it?”

The Doctor flicked his eyes sharply toward Lucifer.  “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Well,” he drawled.  “You have the haughty air of superiority that belongs to the heavens, yet you aren’t a celestial being.  You aren’t human – despite appearances.”  His head tipped to one side and his eyes flared wide and almost manic.  “You travel through time and space, which is in direct defiance to my father’s laws – not that I’ve ever obeyed any of them, so my respect to you on that.”

“I’m an alien,” the Doctor admitted with a shrug.  “From Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous.”

“A Time Lord,” Lucifer realized with a widening grin.  “Oh.  I’ve heard plenty of rumours about your kind.”

The Doctor’s expression fell to wariness.  His body tensed and his hand shifted to seek out Martha’s.  “And just what _kind_ is that?”

Lucifer looked thrilled.  “The kind that uses Dad’s list of commandments as a guideline of what _to_ do rather than what _not_ to do.”   He bellowed out a laugh.  “The Shadow people who farmed the universe looking for playing pieces to engage in the blood sports of your people?   Time Scooping innocent people to the Death Zone to fight each other to death … _for the viewing pleasure_ of your people.”

“That was a long time ago,” the Doctor growled.

“Death and destruction with complete disregard to anyone who wasn’t born within the Time Lord Empire,” Lucifer continued.  “And the people here call _me_ the monster!”  He shook his head and then folded his arms across his chest as he leaned his hip on the railing.  “I am not the monster,” he warned.  “I may be the punisher.  Oh I might even enjoy raining down the most extreme of punishments on the demons that get sent my way.  I get quite a thrill out of it if I’m going to be completely honest.”  He inhaled deeply and softened his voice.  “But I would never actively seek out innocent souls and destroy them for destruction’s sake.  No.  That is the act of the real monsters.”

“I’m not one of them,” the Doctor said softly.  “The history of my people isn’t glorious.  I know that.  To most of us, it’s an embarrassment.  The new order worked hard to change the perception and the reputation of my species.”

Lucifer nodded knowingly.  “To pardon the somewhat religious pun, you are preaching to the choir.  I’ve never been one to routinely punish a soul because of the actions of their ancestors.  Very little point in that, really.”  He flicked his hand upward to snatch a tumbler of whiskey from a passing waitress.  “It doesn’t tend to give anyone any incentive to behave, now, does it?  Not if I’m going to burn them in Hell for the rest of eternity because their great great great grandfather committed some atrocity back around the same time that Noah took his last shit.  Yet…”

The Doctor lifted his eyes to stare at Lucifer through his brows.  “You really do believe that you’re the Devil, don’t you?”

Lucifer leaned forward, yet was still able to draw a sip from his whiskey.  He kept his voice low, and smiled dangerously.  “That’s because I am.”

The Doctor’s brow arched high.  “Then why are you here, on Earth, instead of torturing the sinners in Hell?”

“Why are _you_ here on Earth, and not on Gallifrey Lording yourself over all of Time?”

The Doctor pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels as he looked off to the side with guilt.  “Would you believe that I’m on vacation?”

“Only if you believe that I am.”  He waited for the Doctor to look toward him and continued to speak after taking a draw from his glass.  “Escaping is what it’s really called, Doctor.  I found an opening and ran from the pits of Hell to embark on a new life up here on the surface of the planet.  And I expect that you are engaged in something rather similar to that.”  He grinned.  “Am I right?  Oh tell me I’m right.”

“Close enough,” the Doctor said with a shrug.  “Except rather than living a hedonistic lifestyle of excess and debauchery, I’m travelling the universe acting as champion to time and saving what civilizations need my help.”

Lucifer tipped his glass to that.  “And you’ve saved this rock more than once.  Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have to if God…”

“Oh don’t start with him,” Lucifer groaned.  “He’s a creator, not a caretaker.  Trust me on that.”

“Trust the Devil?”

Lucifer’s nose scrunched up with amusement.  “I really do have a rather unfortunate reputation, don’t I?  My word is my bond,” he advised firmly.  “I have never and will never go back on my word.  If I say it will be done, then so it will be done.”

“As is mine,” the Doctor said with a sigh as he slumped onto the rail beside Lucifer.  “So I have to ask.  Red skin.  Big teeth.  Goat horns.  Forked tail?”

“I swear to my father that when I found out who spread that lie, I will personally drag them into hell and drive a spike up their arse and plant it at my doorstep.  I will make sure that they are ruthlessly tortured for all eternity – I will make it my personal mission to punish them for the rest of time.”  He folded his arms across his chest and let his tumbler hand precariously from his fingers.  “He made me in his image, as he created the human race, Doctor.  He wouldn’t give the form of a red-skinned goat monster to his favourite son.”

The Doctor let out a confused sound and looked to the laces of his Chucks.  “Then I wonder what beast I encountered on Krop Tor.”  He lifted his head to look into the crowd.  “It certainly did represent the image of Satan quite remarkably.”

Lucifer turned his head to look at the Doctor.  “When you work it out, let me know.  Somehow I’ll work the true identity of that creature into the texts so they can stop thinking that’s me.”

“And in the meantime you’ll poke and prod these mere and mortal humans to reveal to you their deepest and most hidden desires, hopefully to exploit that to sate your own needs and desires.”

Lucifer shrugged.  “Well.  Right now I’m working on compelling a Time Lord to admit to me his own desires so that I might exploit them for my own gain.”

“Good luck with that.”

Lucifer grinned and waggled his brows.  “Oh.  I don’t need luck, Doctor.  I doubt I’d even need to try to compel you to admit your most wanton desire.”  He bit at his glass with a grin.  “I’m sure it’ll all be revealed sooner rather than later.”

“I’m a Time Lord.  I have no desires worth poking and prodding for.”  He thrust his hands deeply into his trouser pockets and exhaled a long breath as he looked through the crowd.  “At least not any more.”

“Well,” Lucifer purred.  “That _is_ interesting.  That suggests that once upon a time there was a nasty little pleasure that you did want to take for yourself.”  He danced his shoulders just slightly as he drew back a sip of his drink.  “Just what, or _who_ , did the mighty Lord of Time desire so deeply that its loss tore away his natural born hedonistic desires?”

The Doctor didn’t speak.  In fact he wasn’t even breathing.  His eyes were locked on the crowd and on a woman who had just walked into the club.  Though she was hidden in the shadows, he could see the pronounced angled shape of her jaw, the curvature of her chin caused by the swell of plump lips that set naturally into a juicy pout.  Dark brows arched over large eyes.  Blonde hair tied into a tail draped limply down over her shoulder.

His face fell and he swallowed thickly as the resurrection of desire exploded within him.

“Rose.”


	3. A request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor refuses to make a deal with the Devil, but Martha isn't quite so opposed to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Well. This wasn't an easy chapter to write. I couldn't get into the heads of any of the characters anywhere near enough to get a full grasp on it ... but I think I pulled it out in the end.
> 
> I thought Lucifer would be easy to write ... nope! I'm having difficulty reconciling his character on the show and the legend that I grew up with during Sunday School and what-not... mishymashy guh
> 
> That said ... I hope you find this chapter enjoyable. The next one will be fun to write, that's for sure... :)

Lucifer frowned a little with puzzlement at the Doctor’s sudden frozen stance and looked curiously over the Doctor’s shoulder.  Hopefully if his mind could capture the same image playing before the Doctor’s eyes, then the answer might present itself without him having to ask.

His lips parted in an open purse of concentration as he scanned the crowd for anything out of the ordinary.  There was nothing.  Nothing aside from his hired dancers, scantily clad waitresses and enamoured party-goers flirting and dancing any of their cares away.  A familiar buxom redheaded woman he recalled from an encounter several days – maybe a couple of weeks – prior offered him a wink from across the room.  Lucifer raised his whisky glass with casual and dismissive greeting, and went back to the scan of the crowd.

He caught the Doctor’s voice of longing and abandoned his search to look toward him.  Inside just a single syllable that seemed to hold so much utter devastation, Lucifer was able to very accurately determine just what it was that the Time Lord held so dear.  At that moment he could easily visualize just what it was that was the Doctor’s deepest and most repressed desire.

_A woman…._

With a smirk of victory, Lucifer scanned the crowd once more.  This time it didn’t take him too long to find the source of the Time Lord’s focus.  The Doctor wasn’t exactly being subtle.  He was locked on to a female – a very specific female, and when Lucifer finally registered the target of the Doctor’s attention, he choked on his whiskey.

“The _Detective_ , Doctor?” he barked hoarsely with little or no attempt to hide the incredulity. 

The Doctor blinked rapidly and shook his head to shake the image of a beach and of a tearful goodbye.   His eyes fell on the woman, again, and he exhaled a disappointed breath to see only a mere resemblance of Rose Tyler, rather than the woman herself.

_Wishful thinking…_

“My apology,” he breathed out raggedly.  “I thought I saw someone.  A friend of mine.”  He tugged at his earlobe and swallowed thickly.  “Of course, I should’ve known better.  She’s lost now.  Gone.  Impossible to see her again without breaking the laws set by my people and crossing back into her timeline.”  He dropped his hand and stared back into the crowd and toward the woman who held an uncanny likeness to his Rose.  His voice was broken.  “For all the good that would do me if I did cross it, anyway.  Not a fan of watching from a distance, me.  Even if the image is worth it, my hearts wouldn’t handle it.”

“Oh,” Lucifer breathed with a mixture of discovery and empathy.  “So this friend of yours was someone that you cared deeply about…”

“Care,” the Doctor corrected sharply.  “My affections for her didn’t end because we were separated.”

Lucifer took a draw from his glass and let his eyes fall toward Chloe Decker, who was now in deep conversation with both Ellie and Linda at the bar.  He ignored the question in his mind as to just when had they become such good friends, and tightened his focus upon her,

He let his eyes rake over her head and shoulders in search of just what part of her might have reminded the Time Lord of a love lost.  She was hardly physically remarkable.  In this room of physical perfection, she didn’t exactly stand out.  If anything, even under the lights atop the bar, she seemed to be mired in the shadows of the beauty that surrounded her.  Oh, she had many very remarkable qualities to her.  He wasn’t about to deny that.  But to consider her looks worthy of being the mate to a Time Lord of Gallifrey?  No.  He would have expected almost ethereal exquisiteness from a woman to capture the hearts of a semi-immortal quazi-God such as the man who stood at his side.

Still.  Detective Decker had captured the untiring attention of the Devil himself despite the beauty he consistently held at his fingertips.  Then again, the perfection that swirled and swilled around him lacked any real substance to take a relationship beyond the bedroom.

…And even then, sometimes their performance when naked, panting and writhing on his bed lacked enough substance for him to justify wasting a perfectly good orgasm on.

“Tell me something, Doctor,” Lucifer hazarded gently. 

The Doctor twisted his neck just enough to offer Lucifer the full sight of his face.  “What would you like to know?”

“Your _friend_.”  He lifted his chin in a gesture toward the Detective.  “Is her resemblance to Detective Decker the uncanny sort; or is it just a ghost of similarity?”

The Doctor pursed his lips and turned back toward the crowd.  He let his eyes roll over the casually dressed detective and then let them fall and hold on the angle of her jaw and the pout in her lips.

“She…”  he paused and swallowed thickly enough that a dimple formed in his cheek and he had to lower the seat of his head to accommodate the movement of his Adam’s Apple.  “She is… No.”  He shook his head and schooled his expression to match the sudden confidence in his voice.  “It’s irrelevant.  Rose is gone, and although I might see her image in the face and movements of perfect strangers, I’m never going to see her again.”

“No?”

The Doctor shook his head.  “No.  I can’t.  It’s impossible.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, a small show of sympathy to his pain.  “She’s dead?”

The Doctor shook his head.  While his posture still cried out sorrow, he smiled a happy grin.  “No!  No, not at all.  She’s alive.  So very _very_ alive.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

His smile fell.  “It’s a complicated event in time.  One that not even a Time Lord or a-“ he gestured toward Lucifer with a wave of his hand. “Celestial being can reverse.”

Lucifer drained what remained in his glass and levered the Doctor a rather salacious smile.  His voice left his lips with the smoothness of silk as he slowly lowered the glass to the table.  “What would you do to see her again, Doctor.  I mean if it was possible to make it happen.”

“Not make a deal with the Devil,” the Doctor answered dryly.  “If that’s what you’re alluding to.”

“Are you quite sure about that?”

The Doctor lifted a brow at the smokiness of Lucifer’s voice, and of the sizzle of challenge in his stare.  He didn’t let it sway him.  Tempting though it was, the Doctor merely inhaled a deep breath through his nose and shook his head.  “I’m sure there’s already quite a lien on my life already, Lucifer.”  He blew out a short breath before adding a barely audible: “All thirteen of them.”

Lucifer let one side of his mouth curve up into a smile and he tugged a silver cigarette case from his breast pocket.  “I’m not interested in your _life_ , Doctor,” he quipped as he took a short white stick from the case and popped it into his mouth.  He curved his hand around the flame as he lit it with an expensive Dunhill-brand lighter.  He spoke as he lit the cigarette, which muffled his words somewhat.  “The _Devil_ always asks for your _soul_ when he makes his deals, doesn’t he?”

The Doctor let out a single laugh.  “That’s something that’s _never_ been mine to sell.”  He lifted his eyes to watch the small stream of white smoke that Lucifer blew up toward the ceiling.  “That’s been owned by the Time Lord Council since the day I was loomed.  My soul is to be encased forever in the almighty Time Lord Matrix.”  He looked back down to Lucifer, who seemed to be analyzing the cigarette in his fingers.  “Which would be the equivalent to Hell, I would expect.”  He pursed his lips in thought for a moment.  His voice quietened a little.  “Been in there once, oh, back in my Fourth incarnation.  Wasn’t quite what I imagined it would be, all barren lands and lush swamps, death and destruction and rather vivid hallucinations.”

“Seems to me that it isn’t that much of a stretch to trade one for the other,” Lucifer remarked with encouragement as he popped the cigarette in between his lips and then lifted his hand to take another drink from a passing waitress.  “And who knows, perhaps you might find enjoyment from an eternity of bondage and torture.”  He chuckled and blew out a puff of smoke.  “If you’re that way inclined, of course.”

“No, taa,” he answered simply. 

Lucifer huffed with disappointment.  “Oh well.  You’re no fun at all, are you?”

He had to laugh at that.  “I’m a Time Lord,” he stated as much as scoffed.  “ _Fun_ isn’t exactly in our vocabulary.”  His face lengthened to seriousness.  “And I really wish I was kidding when I say that.  There truly is _no_ translation of that word in my native language, ancient, or contemporary.”

“How utterly devastating,” Lucifer moaned.  He then looked around the bar, taking in the local female attractions, and then looked back to the Doctor.  His smile was wide and inviting as he gestured a sweeting movement of his hand toward the party goers.  “Allow me to be the one to show you what _fun and games_ this delightful little planet has to offer.”  He lifted a finger of argument when the Doctor opened his mouth to protest.  “And I won’t take no for an answer, Doctor.  You sound like you need to live a little.  You know what they say: When in Rome…”

“Yes, yes,” the Doctor chirped impatiently.  “I am aware of the phrase and its connotations, Lucifer.  While I do appreciate the offer, I just have no desire to partake in the _local attractions_.”

“But _thank you anyway_ , of course,” Lucifer finished with a smile and a shake in his head.

“It goes without saying, obviously.”

“Well, no.  Not really.”

The Doctor’s jaw gaped slightly and he rubbed at the back of his neck.  “Okay.  Then.  Well.  Thank you kindly for the offer to set me up with an attractive human female.  Your kindness is very much appreciated, but I do have to decline.  You see, I’m from a highly monogamous species that-“

“Oh, please,” Lucifer scoffed with a roll in his eyes.  “If I had a dollar for every soul who made that claim then I’d be very wealthy.”  He paused and his eyes brightened in time with a smile that stretched across his cheeks.  “Oh, wait a minute.  I _am_ very wealthy.”

“And to whom does the Devil deal when he wants something?” the Doctor teased playfully.

“Not my _Father_ , if that’s what you’re suggesting,” he answered with a laugh.  The laugh then fell and he leaned in close to the Doctor as he butted out his cigarette into an ashtray beside his drink.  “But in all seriousness, Doctor.  Don’t you want to spend another day with the one your hearts and desires yearn for?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted quietly along a breath.  “But to even try would risk collapsing two universes and I can’t risk that.  Not even for her.”

“Are you very sure about that?”

The Doctor flicked a suspicious glance toward Lucifer.  “Even if I could be drawn into temptation, my soul isn’t mine to bargain with.”

He grinned around his glass.  “Who says I want your soul?”

“You’re Satan,” the Doctor stated firmly.  “The Devil.  What else do you want?”

Lucifer shook his head and rolled his eyes with obvious annoyance.  “What good to me is a tortured soul except to hand off to one of my loyal demons to use as their own personal play-thing?”  He shifted sideways just slightly to take a seat on a high barstool at the table and then indicated that the Doctor should take the other.  “Hell is full of destroyed and evil souls of men and woman who fucked about and created mayhem and utter destruction during their short time on Earth.  I really have no desire to add in the pathetic souls of men who only wanted their team to win the Superbowl, or yearned for some fame and fortune to make like that little bit easier to bear.”

He leaned back against the back rest of the chair and checked the state of his manicure.  “Truth be known, those types of people tend to pay their penance, so to speak, before they meet their … natural … demise.”  He lifted his eyes to the Doctor.  “The grass isn’t always greener, no matter what people might think.  They tend to learn fairly quickly that fame and fortune and money are a curse rather than a blessing.”

The Doctor nodded slowly in agreement.

“I’m a _punisher_ ,” Lucifer continued.  “The one tasked with bringing down eternal punishment on men and women who deserve it.  I’ve got no interest in someone who’s only sin is that they coveted a little more than what they already had.”

The Doctor tilted his head curiously as he slowly took a seat after he has ensured that Martha had quietly taken one herself.  “Then if it isn’t souls you’re after, what’s the price to make a deal with the Devil?”

“A favour,” he answered with a smirk.  “That’s all.  Tit for tat.  I scratch your back, you scratch mine kind of deal.”

“A bit like the mafia,” Martha noted quietly.

Lucifer shot her a look.  Initially his eyes were wide and almost threatening, but the manic expression fell rather quickly.  “I’d much rather not be compared to the Mafia, my dear girl.”

“But?” she sked coyly.

He slumped.  “But I can’t really say that we are all that much different, I suppose.  My father really is the original God-Father when you think about it.”  His face contorted into an expression of utter disgust.  “Which actually thoroughly disgusts me to say.”

“And what would that make you?” she continued.  “His enforcer?”

He leaned toward her and lightly pinched her chin between his thumb and the crook of his finger.  “I am the maker of deals, Martha Jones.  The one who makes your most desperate desires come to fruition.”

Martha stuttered and even whimpered slightly under his gaze.  “I.  I see.”

“And what is it that _you_ want most in life, you beautiful creature,” he purred thickly.  “What does Martha Jones want more than anything else?”

The Doctor watched Martha struggle to form words as she battled against Lucifer’s intense stare.  He still wasn’t completely sold on this man being the Devil of Lore, but he had to admit that he played the game rather well.  A lazy stretch of his telepathic senses told him that the man wasn’t using any telepathic tricks to tempt Martha.  It seemed that his companion was merely drawn in by the sultry good looks of a smooth talking pretty boy while under the influence of a pair of Martinis.

He leaned forward across the table.  “Martha.  Did you want to get going?  I’m sure that we-“

“I’m fine,” she interrupted quickly with a swat of her hand in the air between them.  She didn’t take her eyes away from the Tractor beam of Lucifer’s gaze.  “I’d really like another drink, though.  Would you mind please getting me one?”

“I’d rather not leave you alone right now,” he argued firmly. 

Lucifer took his eyes from Martha.  He smirked rather smugly at the gasp she inhaled as she was freed from his gaze, and looked toward the Doctor with an expression of promise.  “Your companion will be quite safe with me,” he assured him smoothly.  “I vow to you that Martha will be right here when you get back from the bar.”

“And your word is your bond,” the Doctor muttered dryly.  He flicked up a finger of warning before Lucifer could comment.  “Know this.  The last person you ever want to betray is a Time Lord.  I have the ability to travel throughout all time and space, and I am not opposed to erasing you from time completely if I come back and Martha is in any distress what-so-ever.”

Lucifer looked back toward Martha with a smile.  “A very chivalrous man this _Doctor_ , isn’t he?”

“And protective,” the Doctor warned as he slid off the stool.  He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and slowly made his way through the crowd toward the bar.

Lucifer was amused, and let his small chuckle show that.  As he had only moments ago, he lifted his hand to pinch tenderly at Martha’s jaw.  “Now.  Where were we?”

Martha swallowed thickly and avoided his gaze for a moment.  She let her eyes flutter closed and inhaled a deep and steadying breath.  She was unwilling to succumb to this man’s charms as easily as she had done so only moments ago.

“Can I ask _you_ a question, Mr. Morningstar?”

“Lucifer,” her corrected softly.  “And please.  By all means.  I am your attentive partner this evening.”

That made her chuckle and she flashed open her eyes to offer him a deep chocolate stare directly into his own.  “IF you truly are who you say you are, then what is the true cost of making a deal with you?”

“Oh,” he breathed out with almost excited curiosity.  “This conversation is taking a turn or the naughty.  How exciting.”

“Hardly,” she answered with a laugh as she gently removed his hand from her chin.  “I’m not really a person with any nefarious intent.”

“That is disappointing,” he sang with false displeasure.  He sat back in the chair and cupped his glass in his hand.  “But to answer your question.  The cost of dealing with the Devil really does depend on the severity of the favour you want from me.  It can range from a simple request that you linger in my presence a little longer than you typically would, to spending your eternity rolling around in my most humblest of abodes down deep below.”

He rethought that and screwed up his face with argument against his own words.  “No.  Scratch that.  No sense in sending you where I don’t want to go, and I imagine that your request wouldn’t warrant it anyway.”

“Can I ask a favour for someone else rather than myself?”

His brows pinched in confusion to that request.  “Well.  I don’t think I’ve ever come across that situation before.  Normally by the time I’ve stepped onto the favour-scene, the request is rather self-centred toward the asker.”

“But I can, right?”

He shrugged and lifted his glass to his lips.  His eyes sparkled in the light as he regarded her over the rim of his tilted glass.  “It doesn’t hurt to ask, I suppose.  Do be aware, though, that even though your favour might be for another’s benefit, _you_ will pay the price for it.”  He swallowed a small sip of whiskey and flicked his eyes in the direction of the bar to indicate the Doctor.  “Not him.”  He looked back at her.  “So do be wary of the cost of this _favour_.”

Martha nodded.  “Asking won’t cost me anything, though, right?”

He grinned and shook his head.  “No.  Of course not.  Although I might request a deposit that requires you to …”  He let the remainder of that comment hang in the air between them.  While he might not have finished it, he let the waggle of his brows add a little bit of innuendo to it.

Martha opened up at that point.  She raised her head and parted her lips in a genuine laugh.  She didn’t stop her laughter until she felt his hand fall lightly on her knee.  She immediately lowered her head and regarded him coolly before she dropped her eyes to his hand.

“In addition to the Doctor’s warning,” she breathed out through a smile.  “Do know that I am perfectly adept at defending myself from unwanted advances.”

He grinned and leaned back into his chair.  “Very well,” he purred.  “I could quite easily convince you that there would be nothing _unwanted_ about my advances, but you’ve intrigued me so I won’t.”

Martha mirrored his seat by leaning back herself.  She quickly flicked her eyes toward the bar and to where the Doctor was waiting patiently for service, and then looked back to Lucifer.

“I want you to do something for him,” she stated evenly. 

“To bring his girlfriend back,” he said blandly.  He then pulled from the back of the chair and leaned forward on the tabletop.   “A rather unselfish request.”

“I’m a rather unselfish person.”

“Pitifully so,” he sang with a smile.  “It’s not something I’m ever going to understand with you lot.  Humans.  For every one of you who is a selfish arse looking only to sate their own needs, there’s always another one of you willing to sacrifice it all and … well … be _nice_.”  He tipped his head to regard her with gentle curiosity.  “There are those of you who will give it all up for someone else’s happiness.”

Martha shrugged.  “I was raised by a good woman who believed in the words of our Holy Father to lead us toward a better way.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes.  “Yes.  Well, I wouldn’t really go about crediting _him_ for the words that guide you.  HE’s not exactly-“

She held up her hand to stop him.  “Don’t rattle my belief, Lucifer,” she warned.  “It’s what gets me through and I won’t let you destroy that.”

He smirked and flicked his hand in a request for her to continue.  “Then do carry on.”

“The most important person in my life right now is him,” she tipped her ear in the direction of the bar.  “I want him happy.”

“You want _him_ ,” Lucifer corrected.  He lifted his hand to circle his finger in front of her face.  “Don’t deny your desire for him.  I don’t need to compel you to reveal your deepest and darkest desires, it’s written all over you.  You’re in love with the Doctor.”

“I. I love him,” she agreed carefully.  “I love him to bits.”

“And you don’t want me to instead help you fulfill the fantasies that swim inside your mind when you go to bed at night?”  He waggled a brow.  “I could certainly help make that happen.”

Martha shook her head.  “No.”

“Liar.”

She slumped and rolled her eyes.  “Well.  Sure.  Every woman wants to have their fantasies realised – even if they know that their fancy is in the mystery and the danger of the man.”

“Now you’re talking!”

Martha chuckled and shook her head.  “But what’s the point when it’s all just an empty encounter?”  She watched his cheer fade and smiled ruefully.  “If he is ever to be mine, I want it to be honest.  I want him to come to me because he wants to fall in love with me, not because the Devil compels him to.”

“Uh.  Huh,” he huffed with disappointment.

Martha covered his hand in hers.  “I’ll always be second best to the memory of Rose.”  She cringed to admit it.  “I already am.  And you know what?  That hurts.  Even if I didn’t fancy the hell out of him, the fact that I’m basically compared to Rose every second of every day … well that …”

He lifted his hand and nodded knowingly.  “Yeah.  I understand where you’re coming from.”  His eyes brightened.  “Although I don’t know _how_ , considering I’ve never really had any problems with attracting anyone I desire.”  He flicked his eyes to her.  “Present company excluded of course.”

“You’re just not trying hard enough,” Martha ventured with amusement.  She then held up her hand in a stop signal.  “And that _isn’t_ an invitation, so don’t even try it.”

“I do love a good challenge.”

She shook her head with disbelief.  “You’re as bad as he is, you know that?”

“Then I like him,” he said with a wink.

“And so do I,” Marth said seriously.  “And so.  I want to ask you.  Can you give him what he desires more than anything else in the universe?”

“Are you even sure you _know_ what that desire really is?”

“Rose,” she answered quickly.  Her brows then pinched together.  “Or the return of Gallifrey.  Oh.  I don’t know.”

Lucifer blinked slowly and drew his glass to his lips.  He tooka moment to draw back a deep steal of the amber liquid and swallowed thickly.  After what seemed like a long moment, he licked at his lip and nodded his head.

“I’ll tell you what.”

Martha nodded eagerly.  “Yes?”

“I can’t really fulfill a desire if it truly isn’t what your friend desires.”  He tipped his head to one side and winced just lightly in thought.  “I _could_ find a way to bring his Rose back to him.  The cost for that, though.  Well.  I don’t think it’s a debt that you can repay.”  He shook his head.  “Not at all, really.  Something of that magnitude has to be his call to make.  I know your intentions are disgustingly selfless and _good_.”  The expression on his face was one of repulsion.  It fell quickly, however.  “But you really can’t ask me to do that.”

Martha slumped.  “I just want him to be happy.  He deserves something _anything_.”  She exhaled a long breath.  “He’s just come back from having his heart broken all over again back in 1913 England.  It’s really not fair.  Not when he does so much for so many.”

Lucifer looked across the bar toward where the Doctor was still patiently waiting for service.  His head was downcast and his hands fidgeted uncomfortably inside his trouser pockets.  This was a fellow who needed a fast little pick-me-up.   Fast and fleeting he could manage.  He was good with the power of suggestion, and the downtrodden mind of a man in pain could be rather easily swayed.

“There is _something_ I can give him,” he offered almost distractedly.  He looked back at Martha with a grin on his face.  “You’ll get your favour, but it’ll be on a temporary basis, and by that I mean tonight only.”

She looked mortified by that.  “But one night’s not enough!  It’ll make his longing for her so much worse.”

A lazy smile spread across his face.  “Indeed it will,” he breathed out almost dangerously.  He looked back toward the Doctor and brought his glass to his lips.  He kissed the rim of the glass and then drew back deeply on it.  “I have a favour I need of him,” he whispered inside the glass.  “And this will make it so much easier to be able to make that deal.”

“What was that, Lucifer?”

“Oh,” he coughed out quickly, with wide eyes softening in apology.  “Just that if he has a taste of temptation, he might be more willing to embrace the happiness he truly desires.” He smoothed out his smile and sizzled a look toward her.  “I’ll do you this favour.  Free of charge.”

Martha shuddered out a breath and nodded with an almost jagged movement of her head.  “And how will you do it?  Can you bring her back?”

Lucifer looked up and snapped his finger toward a scantily clad woman passing by.  “Brittany, love.  Come here will you?”

Brittany, blonde haired and full-lipped, curled around Luficer’s body and sucked a lazy kiss against his mouth.  “Yes, Lucifer?”

Lucifer languidly rolled his jaw with hers in a lazy kiss of promise, and then pulled away gently.  He cupped at her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes.  “I need you to do something for me, love.  You think you can help me out?”

“Anything,” she breathed in a rather stereotypical bombshell manner.

He nuzzled his nose against her ear.  “I have a friend who needs some entertaining this evening.”  He felt her pull away with protest and tugged her back toward him.  His nose dragged along the shell of her ear as he hissed into it.  “I’m not asking you to _sleep_ with him.  Unless, of course, you both find that fancy – which I very much doubt.”

She shuddered in his hold and then nodded.  “Oh-kay.”

He kissed at her ear.  “Just be who he wants you to be, Brittany.  Batt your eyes at him.  Dance with him.  Make him think he’s your entire world.”

She nodded as she breathed hotly through an open mouth. 

“I’ll make it worth your while, love,” he assured her.  “Consider it a favour to me, and I’ll return that favour by granting you whatever little desire is running through that impossibly simple mind of yours.”

She panted her acquiescence and nodded her head.  “Sure thing, Lucifer.”

“That’s a good girl,” he purred.  He gestured toward the Doctor with a jut of his chin.  “The man over there.  The one in the coat.  He’s called the Doctor.  He’s a very long way from home, and very lonely right now.”

She nodded.  “Sure thing, Lucifer.”  She looked back to him and played with the collar of his shirt.  “And when I’m finished with him…”

“Whatever you want,” he promised her.  “Anything.”

Brittany pulled away from him and began the slow and sensual walk toward the Doctor.  Lucifer watched her go with an arch in his brow and a look of appreciation on her arse.  His eyes suddenly lifted.  “Oh, and Brittany.  Your name is _Rose_.”


	4. Absinthe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze offers the Doctor a drink...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to take a bit of a break as a few real life things cropped up and demanded my full attention. Lots of stuff going on that's just giving me a honking great headache and makes me want to put a curse on life ... Mostly on my child's school ...
> 
> There's only one thing I hate more than bullies: and that is principals that refuse to do anything about the bullies that they have at their school. There is no discipline or repercussions at all for them. The blame is always put on the victim ... Don't think you'll get any form of support for your autistic child at the hands of the school thug ... No. The only time that there is any discipline at all is if the principal thinks that one of the kids might be disrespecting her in any way... You can thump the other kids all you damn well want, and you won't even have to apologise for it ... roll your eyes at your teacher or the principal, however, oh, that's worthy of severe disciplinary measures ...

Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue held by the Doctor.  Even though time ran differently for him than it did for most other species across the universe – Humans included – which meant that waiting an extra few minutes wasn’t really all that much of a big deal to him, he couldn’t help shifting from foot to foot with impatience.

My, but the bar was busy this evening.  There seemed to be more people milling about this section of the club than anywhere else.

He almost gave up completely, and exhaled a breath of annoyance as he turned on his heel and readied to storm off back toward Martha and Lucifer.

A smooth voice halted him in place.

“And just what poison are you looking to ply yourself with tonight, my dark and stormy stranger?”

The Doctor spun abruptly and seared a sizzling glare of annoyance toward a dark-skinned woman on the other side of the bar.  Capturing her image completely even though he stared straight into her face, he noted her provocative style of dress and the way she leaned down on the bar in an equally suggestive manner.

“Dark and stormy,” he repeated dryly.  “You have no idea.”

She straightened up and let her eyes fall down to the bar as she used a finger to push a small stemmed glass half-filled with green liquor and topped with an elaborate silver spoon toward him.   She didn’t life her eyes as she dropped a cube of sugar atop the spoon with perfectly manicured fingers.

“Do you prefer ice water?”  She lifted her eyes toward his and licked at her lip as she tipped her head suggestively.  “Or are you more of a fire and brimstone kind of man?”

“I believe you have me mixed up with the man who’s currently attempting to seduce my companion.”  He flicked a short gaze over his shoulder toward Martha and Lucifer, and then looked back toward Maze.  “And by the looks of it, despite her fawning, he has his work cut out for him.   Such a good girl is my Martha Jones.”

Maze chuckled as she used a small vial to dramatically pour ice-cold water over the sugar cube.  As the water fell into the bottom of the glass, the bright green liquor swirled to a murky white.  

“If Lucifer truly wanted to seduce your friend,” she lifted her eyes to his.  “Then she’d already be in his bed.”

He lifted a brow and looked to the glad on the bar with slow recognition.  “You don’t know Martha, she isn’t easily taken in my handsome men.”

Maze snorted through her nose.  Her lip quirked up to a smile.  “And you don’t know Lucifer,” she countered.

“Oh,” he sang, his focus tight on the liquid, which was still diffusing from green to white.  “But I’ve certainly heard a great deal about him.”  He pointed to the glass and then looked up at Maze with his brows high and his eyes wide.  “Is that Absinthe?”

A wide, rube-lipped smile answered the question in a way that words could not.

The Doctor slowly closed his slightly gaped mouth into pursed lips.  HE looked down to the drink and then lifted his eyes to hers.  “Isn’t this liquor still illegal to sell in bars?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

The Doctor sniffed deeply.  He took the spoon from the top of the glass and let it tumble to the bar without any real finesse.  He then winked at her and brought the small glass to his lips.  “Bottoms up,” he said with a smile and a salute of the glass.

Maze’s jaw dropped in surprise as she watched the Doctor tip his head backward and drain the entire glass in a single gulp.  She coughed with disbelief that he didn’t wince with the burn of alcohol.  Instead he seemed to savour the flavour somewhat.  He flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and then licked at his lip.

“Not bad.”

“You’re really supposed to sip it,” she said with wide eyes and a smile.  “Not throw it back like cheap tequila.”

“Tequila,” he repeated with a chuckle as he crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned his elbows on the bar.  “Never been a fan of that, myself.  I can understand the appeal, however, to the inferior human palate  Not enough sensitivity in the filiform, fungiform and vallate papillae to truly appreciate how abysmal the distilled product actually is.  Agave is a rather pleasant flavour when distilled in the correct manner – which is something that this planet never truly perfects.  Lycanipal-prime have perfected fermentation processes of Agave, which gives the tequila – or fantiglia as the Lucanipalians call it – a much thicker aroma and flavour that coats the palate in a rich …”  He paused with his tongue stuck on the roof of his mouth as Maze slammed a shot glass on the bar in front of him and stared darkly at him as she topped off the glass with the amber liquid of a high-end brand of tequila.  “That is to say…”

Maze kept her eyes on him as she snatched the glass from the bar and tossed the contents into her mouth with about as much finesse as one would throw in a handful of peanuts.  Her expression was as unchanged and as unaffected as his was when he threw back his absinthe.  She didn’t wince at the burn of alcohol, nor of the bitter flavour of the drink.  Instead, she slammed the glass down onto the bar and thumbed the wetness from her lip.

“It’s just a drink,” she said finally, with irritation marring her smooth voice.  “It’s not a fine wine, just a cheap means to get hammered.  By the time any one of my patrons have asked for tequila, they’re already too drunk to give a shit about how it tastes.”

“Oh,” he said with a cough of embarrassment.  “Right.  Of course.”

“That isn’t to say that there aren’t those random individuals who truly do appreciate the flavour of fermented agave,” she continued with a smile as she took both glassed from the bar and set them on a tray for cleaning.  “We don’t often get them in here, though.  We have a much more refined range of palates more accustomed to an aged scotch or whiskey.”

The Doctor’s mouth dropped lightly and he nodded as he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.  “Tequila is just for when they’re looking for a faster and likely cheaper way of reaching for the buzz.”

“Precisely.”  She kept her eyes on his as she set up another small glass and half-filled it with Absinthe.  “If I pour you another drink, will you take the time to savour it as you are supposed to?”

He shook his head sharply.  “I think not,” he answered coolly.  “Absinthe has never been a wise drink for my people to partake in.”

“And why’s that?” she asked with a cheeky smile as she prepared him another one.  “Are you scared of the green fairy, perhaps?”  She looked down and tipped her head curiously as she set a silver spoon atop the glass.  “It’s all nonsense, the hallucinogenic properties of thujone, that is.”  Her brows rose and she spoke almost breathlessly.  “Ridiculous accusations made by simple idiots who fear witchcraft and devil worship.”  She chuckled.  “By their reasoning a decent orgasm is the curse of Satan.”

“If that’s the case,” he answered simply, his eyes on the glass as she poured ice water over another cube of sugar.  “Then Lucifer has an entire planet of devoted worshippers begging to be cursed.”  His eyes lifted to hers when he heard her chuckle.  “It truly is remarkable just how devoted to carnal desires the people of this planet are.”

“It’s fun,” she sang cheekily.  “Sex, that is.”

“I’ve no doubt,” the Doctor agreed with a shrug.  “Wars have been waged, and revolutions revolted …”

“Make love not war,” she countered as she pushed over the glass with the tip of her finger.

The Doctor shook his head and let out a long breath before he drew the glass to his lips and drew back a small sip.  This time he winced at the flavour, and of the holy trinity of flavours that were almost immediately potent to his species.  If he continued to allow the mix of wormwood, anise and fennel to burrow into the sensitive room of his mouth, he’d be swaying past this current lucid drunkenness in no time.

“How is it?” she asked with a cheeky smile.  “Is the green fairy dancing on your shoulder, yet?”

“The fairy is blue, thank you,” he answered with a narrowed look.  “And she’s not a fairy, she’s a time ship.”  He pursed his lips and eyeballed the glass.  “And she would be very unhappy with you for repeatedly plying me with a liquor known across the universe as the best way to intoxicate a Time Lord.”

“You could say no,” she said with a wink.

He tipped the glass to her in a salute.  “And deny the pretty lady?  Well, what kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?”

Maze leaned her forearms on the table and leaned forward.  The movement, and the tight fold of her arms underneath her bosom gave the teetering Time Lord a rather outstanding view of her generous cleavage.  He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he drew back another small sip.

“A real gentleman might’ve asked me my name by now.”

He snorted and then gave her a wink.  “Then I’ve rather spectacularly proven that I’m not a gentleman, then, haven’t I?” he slurred lightly.  He tipped his head in the general direction of Martha and Lucifer.  “Rude to you.  I’ve left my companion, my trusted friend Martha, all alone in the presence of a man who claims to be the Devil...”

“And how do you know that he isn’t?”

The Doctor leaned down and flicked his eyes left and right in a rather conspiratorial manner.  “No horns.”

“Perhaps he cut them off.”

The Doctor pursed his lips.  “His skin’s not red nor scaly.”

“Perhaps he bleaches his skin and moisturises.”

“Moisturises!” he cheered as he slammed his palm on the bar top and practically dance on the spot.  “Oh, that word.  It takes me back.”

Maze’s brow flicked up high on her forehead.  Her voice was flat as she let her eyes fall toward his belt.  “If any memory involves moisturising anything, I don’t think I want to know about it.”

He waggled his brows.  “It involves a flap of skin-”

“And that’s right where you stop in the retelling of that story, thank you.”  She gestured toward his drink with a turn of her nose.  “Finish that.  There’s more where it came from.  Courtesy of the house, and of the Devil himself.”

“But is he _really_?” The Doctor said with a little too much slur in his voice _._   “I mean the Devil.  Lucifer.  Satan.  Beelzebub.”  His grin widened.  “The Prince of Darkness.  The evil one!”

Maze rolled her eyes.  “I wouldn’t exactly call him _evil_ ,” she countered dryly.  “A pain in the ass, perhaps.  A hedonistic fool.  The punisher of those who sin against God’s divine laws…”

“A working man,” the Doctor ventured through pursed lips and a nod of his head.  “Just your every-day bloke, working for the man and doing what he’s told to do.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that he does anything that anyone _tells_ him to do…”

“Misunderstood,” the Doctor corrected with a cheer.  “Oh, yes.  I understand the type very well.  Labelled by the ignorant masses who _think_ that they know who you are and what you stand for.”  He seemed to sober up a little and his eyes saddened as his bottom lip jutted out long.  “I’ve been called a lot of things, you know.  Had a lot of assumptions made and had many irresponsible and untrue legends told about me over the centuries.”

Maze rolled her eyes and pulled up a bottle of whiskey.  She huffed out a breath as she took of the pourer and brought the bottle to her lips.  “Oh, I’m going to need a drink for this one…”

“But I’m just a man.  That’s all,” he continued.  “Sure.  I pilot a frankly brilliant time ship and have many wonderful adventures with the most incredibly brilliant companions.  But take that away, and I’m just a man.”  He let out a breath.  His brows lifted, although his gaze remained low.  His voice cracked slightly.  “A lonely man if I’m going to be honest.”  His eyes then fell to the drink.  “And.  Well.  I guess I am.  Honest, that is.  Thujone might not warp the minds of humans, but it does have a remarkable effect on the minds and mouths of Gallifreyans.  Sodium Pentothal for Time Lords if you will.”

Maze drew back another swig of her whiskey and passed along an annoyed glare toward Lucifer, who merely smiled back across the club as he raised his glass in salute.  “If he wasn’t immortal, I’d kill him.”

“Oh, I’m not immortal,” the Doctor corrected.  “Semi-Immortal, I suppose you could say.  I have the potential to live for thousands of years, though I don’t believe I’ll get too deeply inside my second millennium at the rate I’m burning through regenerations.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

The Doctor’s brows pinched in puzzlement.  It took a moment for realization to set, and when it did, his brows lifted.  He chuckled as he nodded with his entire body rocking in time with his head.  “Ahh.  Yes.  Lucifer.  Of course.  If he truly is the Prince of Darkness, then he would be immortal, wouldn’t he?”

He spun on his heel and looked across the bar toward Martha and Lucifer.  He narrowed his eyes to focus a little better on the smooth, handsome British fellow that was animatedly chatting up his companion.  He drew his glasses from his blazer pocket and slipped them up onto his nose to analyse him a little more.  “Why would the Devil rise from hell and mingle with the common-folk?”

“Hell,” Maze answered dryly.  “Just that name alone should tell you why.”

The Doctor tipped his head to one side.  He held the glass to his lips and blew across the top.  “The Devil came down to LA,” he sang quietly to himself.  “Cause he was looking for a soul to steal.  He was in a bind cause he was way behind and he was looking to make a deal…”

Maze snatched the glass from his hand, slopping milky liquid over his hand and on the sleeve of his jacket.  She ignored his yelp of protest.

“I think that’s about enough for you,” she growled.  “Who would have thought that a Time Lord was such a cheap drunk?”

He indignantly swiped at his sleeve.  “Well, that’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“Be thankful that I was only being rude,” she half snarled.  “I’ve disemboweled people for crimes less than that.”

He coughed.  “I’ll have you know, that _that_ is musical masterpiece.”

“Lies and mistruths,” she corrected darkly. 

“The Devil doesn’t make deals?”

“W-Well,” she spluttered.  “Yes.  He does…”

“And he tempts people to make these deals?”

She gave him a blank stare.  That stare then darkened and inside a moment she drew back a long pull from her bottle of whiskey.  “He _doesn’t_ play a fiddle.”  Her eyes flicked to one side and her voice lowered so that it was almost inaudible.  “I’d wrap it around his head if I was forced to listen to that for all eternity.”

“Nothing wrong with the joyous sounds of a fiddle,” he sang cheerfully.  “I quite like the fiddle, myself.  It’s always so happy, like a bird chirping away in the spring time.”

“More like a cat being swung about by its tail,” she corrected coolly. 

“Well,” the Doctor said with a swallow.  “I suppose.  If it isn’t played _correctly_ , then it might have a rather insidious sound to it.  Generally speaking, in the hands of a master fiddler, it’s a very happy sound.”

“And so are the cries of the tortured souls in Hell pleading for forgiveness from the Holy Father,” she countered with a smile of longing.

“You.  You are a very unique kind of woman, you know that?”  

He paused a moment and let silence fall between them.  He maintained a rather curious, yet flat expression on his face as he tried to see a crack in that hard façade of hers, something to indicate that she was only teasing him.  He saw nothing to suggest anything such thing at all.

Which meant that she was either a complete psychopath, or she was one of the devil’s minions… Or both …

…of course, that would also mean that Lucifer really was who he was claiming to be:  The Devil.

Impossible.   There was no such thing.

If there was, he’d have known about it a very long time ago.

“Doctor?”

His breath caught deep inside his chest at the soft call of his name across the club.  Oh, it could have been a distortion of the music that thumped through the space between them that curled the sound of his name in the way that only _she_ could say it.  The breathless upward inflection of the last syllable that always seemed to turn his name into a question, even when she said it in warning when she was mad at him.  It could have been the haze still in his mind from the mix wormwood, anise and fennel that fueled his need for her so much that he could hear her calling to him.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter.  She was calling him, and he’d answer her no matter what.

 _“I’m on my way,”_  his mind promised as he spun toward the sound of her voice.  His breath drew in hard to see her walking toward him from the other end of the club.  One word passed through his lips at that moment.  Only one.

“Rose.”

He was vaguely aware of the sound of a glass being put on the bar behind him, and of Maze pouring a fresh round of absinthe, water and sugar.   Vaguely aware of her actions, perhaps, but lucidly aware of the hazing in his senses caused by Maze’s drink.

She was a trick of the mind.  He was certain of it.  The walls between their universes was sealed, there was no way that Rose was in the bar with him.  There was no way that she was walking toward him with her warm brown eyes sizzling an amber gaze into his.  There was no possible way that her impossibly wide and full lips were stretched into a smile created only for him.

There was no way in Rassilon was she walking toward him wearing an impossibly tight, illegally short, TARDIS blue dress.

Oh, absinthe was a hell of a drink…  

“Hello, Doctor,” she cooed as she finally moved through the crowd and stood before him.  “Long time no see.”

“Rose,” he half whimpered, half spluttered as his eyes dampened enough to blur her from his vision.   Panic rushed through him as he wiped viciously at his own eyes to clear his sight and put her back firmly into his vision.  “Don’t go,” he croaked desperately.

She touched at his arm and waited until he looked down at her again and smiled.  “I’m here, Doctor.  And I’m not going anywhere.”


	5. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha, Maze and Lucifer watch the Doctor dance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to post this real quick ... out of time... Wow, have I had no time of late.
> 
> Small warning. There is a little bible bashing in here (and I don't mean getting up and preaching religion - I actually mean disparaging the good book) ... it's not big and it's not ugly, more a mention in passing, but I know people get easily offended by such things. If you think this might offend, then consider yourself appropriately warned. 
> 
> Other than that ... we're at the crest of this wave we're on... Enjoy!
> 
> ....I hope you enjoy, anyway ...

_“I’m here, Doctor.  And I’m not going anywhere.”_

Her voice didn’t sound right.  There was a decidedly American infliction in her pronunciation of her r’s.  She pronounced her words in their entirety rather than dropping random letters from them.  There was no laziness and no drawl.

“Doct-ah,” he corrected with a gentle whisper as he stepped in closer to her and cupped her elbow lightly in his hand.  “Rose always called me _Doct-ah_.”

The vision of Rose tipped her head and pinched her brows in confusion as he breathily extended the last sound of his name.   “I don’t under-“

He shushed her quickly through pursed lips.  “Shhh,” he hissed out tenderly; his following words spoken little more than a whisper.  “Don’t speak.”

Her breath hitched when the Doctor closed his eyes and stepped yet closer.  His hand travelled down the length of her arm to take her hand in his.  “But-“

His other hand rose to touch his finger to her lips.  “Tsh tsh tsh,” he breathed out in a light peppering of sounds meant to quiet her.  His eyes opened slowly so that he could take in her expression of surprise.  He breathed out her name and stretched his lips into a rueful smile.  “Please don’t speak.  Just.  Just…”  His voice broke slightly.  “Just be here, yeah?  Just shh and let me look at you.”

She kissed at his finger and then smiled.  “Okay.”

He repeated his request for silence and took a step backward, drawing her back with him with a light tug of her hand.  “Let’s dance, Rose.  No talking, just dance.”

She bit her teeth against her closed lips to hold them tightly shut and nodded her head.

The Doctor knew it wasn’t Rose.  He wasn’t stupid.  He understood that he was captured within the mind-altering effects of absinthe.  He knew that the woman who looked to him like the love he’d lost so many months ago wasn’t truly Rose Tyler; that in reality she probably didn’t even look anything like her…

…But, he didn’t care.

He missed the feel of her hand in his.  He missed their celebratory cuddles.  He missed the smile that could instantly erase any fears, self doubts and loneliness….

…He just missed _her._  All of her.  Everything about her. When his arms moved around her waist, and he felt her loop her arms lazily around his neck, he looked down into her whiskey-coloured eyes and smiled.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed solemnly.  He dropped his nose to her ear and nuzzled lightly against it.  “I’ve missed you so much.”

 

~~oooOOOooo~~

 

From his perch against the railing that overlooked the dance floor, Lucifer chuckled.  His teeth bit lightly against the edge of his whiskey glass and he inhaled the woody scent of the liquor with appreciation before taking a small draw.  He felt Maze’s presence at his left long before he caught sight of her, and let out an appreciative hum.

“Absinthe, Maze?”

Maze loudly set a half empty bottle of Whisky on the table with one hand, and clinked a trio of glasses onto the table beside it.   She smirked, but let out a long suffering breath as she poured two fingers of whiskey into each of the three glasses.

“He’s a Time Lord,” she replied dismissively.  “What else am I going to give him to make sure he gets off on what you’ve thrown at him; apple juice?”  

Her eyes lifted to Martha as she picked up one of the glasses with her fingertips and held it toward her.  “Your friend might be a while.  Drink up.”  She tipped her ear toward Lucifer.  “He’s paying.”

Initially, Martha didn’t react to Maze’s gesture for attention.  Her eyes were locked on the Doctor, and to the tender, affectionate attention he was giving toward his dance partner just below them.  She felt slightly hurt at the ease by which the Doctor had found himself a _dance partner_.  No.   _Slightly_ didn’t fully convey what she was feeling as she watched the Doctor nuzzle and nestle himself against the bottle-blonde bombshell that Lucifer had sent his way.  Her heart fell inside her chest with shattering ferocity and may as well have been expelled from her throat with the airless cough she released at the sight.

A whiskey glass touched at her shoulder, and Martha turned her head quickly.  The sight of a stunning brunette woman with bright, yet shielded eyes, milk-chocolate skin, and plump ruby-red lips stretched into a smile of encouragement made her gasp an involuntary inhale.

“You’re gorgeous,” she blurted out without thought.

Maze lifted a brow and curled herself around Lucifer to stand close to Martha’s side.  She held up the glass and licked at her lip as she let her eyes trail over Martha’s face and chest.   “You’re certainly no wilting wall-flower yourself.”

Martha blushed under Maze’s scrutiny and actually curled in a little on herself as she graciously accepted the glass.  She attempted to exude confidence, but the waver in her voice betrayed the façade she tried to put on.  “Coming from a _woman_ , that is quite the compliment.”

Maze had to laugh, and although Martha now held the glass in her hand, she pressed her finger to the bottom of the glass to push it up toward her mouth.  “ _Dutch courage_ ,” she ventured with encouragement.  “Or so I’m led to believe it is, anyway.  A few generous fingers of this stuff, and you’ll be relaxed and …”  she winked  “…ready to _dance_ just like your friend over there.”

Martha chuckled lightly and shook her head.  She didn’t lift the glass to her lips and take a short sip, but she maintained hold on the glass as though she was seriously considering it.  “This is whiskey,” she countered with a wink.  “Dutch courage would be a shot or three or four of gin.”

Maze rolled her eyes and shrugged.  “Tom-ay-toh, tom-ah-toh,” she drawled with forced boredom.  She then held up her glass.  “A drink’s a drink.  Gin or Whiskey, it doesn’t matter.  It’ll get you off.”

Lucifer snickered into his own glass of whiskey, which he’d topped off with Maze’s bottle.  “Well.  If that’s all it takes...”

“Finish that statement,” she snarled darkly.  “And I’ll see to it that you’ll lose your ability to take anything.”

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a rather exaggerated long suffering sigh.  “How many millennia have you been at my side, wreaking the most brutal forms of punishments on the tortured souls in hell?”

“Not that it matters,” she growled in reply.  “But far too many.”

‘Oh it matters,” he challenged with a laugh in the back of his throat.  “Because if that’s the very best that you can come up with-“

“It’s not,” she interrupted with a sneer.  “But you run with what works, and for _you_ …”  She let that word hang a moment and simply stared at him with an unreadable expression.  After almost a minute, she let her neutral expression fall into a smile and looked back to Martha.   She drew her glass to her lips and kissed at the amber liquid swirling up toward her lips.

Martha shuddered just slightly under her intense gaze, but quickly swallowed her discomfort and held out her hand.  “I’m Martha, by the way.  You are?”

“Captivated,” Maze answered smoothly.  “Simply captivated.”

Martha’s head tipped curiously to one side and her eyes pinched just slightly.  “I’m fairly sure your name isn’t _Captivated_.”

“No,” she breathed out with a backward tilt in her head and a thoroughly seductive look along her nose toward Martha.  “It’s Mazikeen.”  She winked.  “Or Maze if I like you.”

“I see,” Martha answered with a rather cheeky smile of her own.  She felt her confidence rise and her discomfort fall with Maze’s somewhat rapt attention on her.  “So.   Do I get to call you Mazikeen, or Maze?”

Maze grinned and waggled her brows.  “Drink up, Martha, and I’ll let you know.”

Lucifer groaned a little from behind Maze’s shoulder.  “This evening has taken a particularly disappointing turn.”

Maze slid a mirth-filled glance toward her boss.  “Jealous?” she queried cheekily as she drew her lips along the rim of the glass.

He wasn’t looking at her to really see the expression she had graced him with, but he could sense her self-satisfied expression easily enough.   It took great effort not to shift his eyes to sizzle a glare of fury in her direction, but with a bite of his teeth against the lip of his whiskey glass, he was able to suppress the urge.  Instead he smiled around his glass.  “Not to suggest for a moment that I’m not intrigued and wish to join in on any festivities I might otherwise be accused of being jealous of not being a participant…”

“Bullshit,” Maze said, poorly disguising it with a faux sneeze.

“But,” he half growled as he continued.  “Partaking in such games might interfere with any _other_ plans I have in place for the immediate future.”

Maze had to laugh.  “If you think that you have what it takes to tempt a Time Lord into embarking upon any of your nefarious deals, then you truly are deranged.”

He kissed at the rim of his glass to draw in just a slight taste of whiskey and looked across to the Doctor and “Rose” only a short distance away.  “Oh.  Care to place a wager on that?”

Martha’s brows rose high, but she didn’t look toward her travelling companion lest her heart simpered and then died inside her chest.  She kept her attention on Lucifer, focusing her attention on his mouth, and lips lightly dampened with whiskey.

“I never pegged the Devil to be a _betting_ man,” she quipped with a smile.

Lucifer practically choked on his drink at the explosive cough of laughter that belched out of Maze beside him.  He thumped at his chest as he levelled out his startled cough.   “Oh, Martha.  Martha.  Martha.  Martha.  I _invented_ the gambling arts.”

Martha smiled a toothy grin and lifted her head to look past his shoulder toward a handsome stranger passing by.  “Well,” she answered him somewhat distractedly.  “That’s what my grandmother always said.”  She inhaled deeply and spoke her next line in a gravelled voice of an aged woman.  _Gambling is the fancy of the Devil, Martha.  Don’t you start playing in his playground like an unholy sinner._ ”

“She doesn’t sound like much fun,” Maze mused with a roll in her eyes.

“No,” Martha sang.  “But she was a decent and loving God-Fearing woman, my Nanna.”

Lucifer grinned at that and leaned his elbows down on the table.  He held onto his whiskey glass with a precarious span of his fingertips around the full circle lip and swung it gently side to side.  “And do you, Martha?” 

“Do I what?” she queried curiously, slightly unnerved by his rather salacious smirk.

“Fear him?”

Martha’s brow arched high with puzzlement.  “You mean God?”  She held her breath for long enough to watch him nod and then exhaled with a shake of her head.  “Travelling with the Doctor,” she answered with a chuckle.  “And I’ve seen things far more terrifying than the Holy Father.”

Lucifer sniffed and rose up to stand tall.  He drained the contents of his glass with a single gulp and swallowed with a wince and a hiss.  “I’m the ruler of Hell, and am witness to the very worst kinds of people this planet has to offer.   And yet.  I can’t say that I’ve encountered any being more terrifying that my Dad.”

Martha made a small sound of curious surprise.  “Oh?   And here I was thinking that you are supposed to be the terrifying one,” she offered softly. 

Maze snorted.  She was happy in her lean against a single elbow on the counter with her glass dangling from her fingertips.  “I’m worse them him,” she cut in indignantly.  “Compared to me he’s a kitten.”

Martha dropped her head back and laughed a genuinely amused and happy laugh at that.   Lucifer looked to the ceiling and let out a rather long suffering sigh.

“If only she were jesting, my dear Martha.”  He exhaled again.  “If only.”

“So what the Doctor say sis true, then,” Martha breathed out with slight amusement.  “Reputations really are just stories, aren’t they?”

“Oh,” he sang with a wince in his brow.  “There’s usually a modicum of truth in every story, but yes.  Reputations usually are just an exaggerated piece of fiction…”

“…Most often created by the one the reputation refers to,” Maze cut in with a laugh.  “IF only to make them seem much more powerful than they really are.”

“I’m powerful,” Lucifer gruffed with mild brattish petulance in his voice. 

Maze stroked his arm in a facetiously maternal gesture.  “Oh course you are, Luci.  Big and powerful.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes with annoyance and shook his head.  “Are you quite through with trying to emasculate your Dark Lord of the Underground so that we can focus on the lonely Lord of Time?”

“He’s not lonely,” Martha protested rather meekly.  “He has me.”

Lucifer gestured toward the dancing couple on the dance floor below them.  “With all respect due to you, Martha.  I don’t know that you are able to provide him what he truly needs.”

She let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest.  It was a self-conscious cross of her arms more than a defensive or indignant pose.  “I _could_ give it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could,” Maze assured her with a smile and a wink.  Her supportive expression faltered to one of apology.  “And while there is no doubt that you could easily sate any physical desires he may have; his heart – or hearts – can really only be sated by the one who captured them in the first place.”

Beside her, Lucifer coughed a laugh of amusement into his whiskey glass.  “Oh, be careful now, Mazikeen.  You’re sounding awfully ro-“ his words cut sharply as Maze’s hand covered his mouth.

She snarled into his face with a vicious curl of her lip.  “Don’t breathe it.  Don’t think it.  And certainly don’t _say_ it,” she warned.  “I cut your wings off, Lucifer.  Don’t think I’m content to just stop there.”

Martha gasped.  “You _cut off_ his _wings_?”

Maze kept her sneer into Lucifer’s face, her scowl deepening at the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  “I like to cut things off self-righteous and annoying men.”

“And women too,” Lucifer added in a muffled voice behind Maze’s hand.  “Let’s not be sexist, now.”

Maze snatched her hand from Lucifer’s mouth and wiped it roughly on the thigh of her leather pants.  She grabbed the liquor bottle and splashed a more than generous amount of whiskey into Luficer’s glass.  “Here have another drink.”

Martha watched with a pinched brow as Lucifer gave his friend a beaming smile, muttered something about not minding if he did, and drew back deeply on the glass to drain at least half its contents.  She bit at her lip and kept her brows drawn as she trailed her eyes to the dance floor and on the Doctor, who danced with his partner as though she was the single most important being in all creation.  She noted that his eyes were closed gently, and that he pursed his lips to tenderly request silence each time she tried to speak to him.  His forehead was pressed lightly against hers, and his hands trailed a feather-gentle glide along her arms, shoulders and into her hair in what looked to be a practiced movement.

“He’s going to realize that she’s not the one he wants,” Martha croaked finally in warning.  “And all Hell might break loose when he does.”

Maze chortled with a snort, while Lucifer just laughed.  “Trust me, Martha,” Lucifer managed.  “There is no chance of Hell breaking loose.  It’s not an easy prison to escape.”

“You did,” she replied with a cheeky smile.

“A couple of times,” Maze reminded him with a wink.

“Be that as it may,” he said slowly and with punctuation on each word.  “No souls will escape to wreak havock up here.”    He looked toward the dancefloor.  “He knows, by the way.”

“Knows what?” Martha queried as she followed Lucifer’s gaze with her eyes.

“That the woman he’s dancing with isn’t the one that he truly desires,” he answered her with a shrug as he leaned on the railing to look below.  “Absinthe may well cloud a Time Lord’s mind and allow him to see what isn’t there, but he can clear his mind well enough to see the truth versus the lie.”

“He just has to _want_ to,” Maze added thoughtfully as she took position on the other side of Martha from Lucifer.                 Her breath flew from her lips with a sympathetic sorrow.  “And right now, it’s clear that he wants to live the fantasy of holding his beloved one more time.”

“Rose,” Martha said with a croak in her voice.

Maze shot a look toward Martha.  “Pardon me?”

“Her name was Rose,” she answered without taking her eyes off the Dancefloor.  “And they were … together,” she finished with an imitation of the Doctor in her first moments with him in the TARDIS.

Maze seemed quickly curious.  “So you met her then?  Tell me,” she purred as she leaned down on the railing.  “What kind of woman is capable of capturing the love of a Time Lord.”

“I,” she spluttered quickly.  “I don’t…”

“She would have to be someone quite special,” Maze continued with curious excitement.  “Time Lords aren’t exactly known for love and devotion.”  She pursed her lips and frowned a little.  “And _affectionate_ isn’t a word that I thought existed in the language and vocabulary of a Time Lord.”

Maze exhaled a breath that was _almost_ one of envy.  “He’s so reverent and tender toward her.”

“The most important part of his entire universe,” Lucifer mused with agreement.  He paused only to grin a wide smile of victory.  “Which means a deal will be made by the end of the evening.”

“Don’t be daft,” Martha challenged with a growl.  “The Doctor isn’t so stupid as to make a deal with the Devil.  That’s a sin in the highest order; not to mention very incredibly foolish and dangerous.  Word the deal wrong, and who knows what you’re agreeing to!”

“Well no,” Lucifer challenged gently with a slight rise in the octave of his voice.  “That is not true at all.  My word is my bond.  I look inside a person to see their truest desire so that there are no misinterpretations in any request.  My terms are specific – if not occasionally a little cryptic or obtuse.”

“Therein lies the problem,” she growled.  “Not knowing what you’re agreeing to.”   She huffed and looked back to the dancefloor.  “Eternal damnation for a few years of thrill and pleasure, no ta.  I got that without making any deals with you.  I was raised right.”

“Eternal damnation,” he spat indignantly.  “Fairy tales and nonsense.  It takes far more than a win of the lottery or a superbowl win to end up in my dungeons, let me tell you.”

“But the Bible says…”

“The books of the Bible are stories,” he threw in quickly.  “Tales of morality and judgement of man.  Not my father.  Tell me, Martha.  Have you ever taken a moment to actually read that garbage?  With everything you’ve ever seen, can you honestly believe even the first page of it?”  He spun to her.  “You’re a woman of science…”

“I _believe_ ,” she countered with a growl.  “And I won’t let you shatter my faith.  I was _raised_ on the moralities taught in church.  I was raised with faith in that book and all its teachings.  Don’t you tell me otherwise.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but he smiled.  “My father would love you.”

“He loves us all.”

“Yeah,” he drawled long and doubtful.  He said nothing further on the matter of the Bible, but he did look back to the dancefloor.  “Your friend, however.  He wasn’t raised to believe in any higher power.  His people are too narrow minded to have blind faith and spirituality.  Their civilisation Deified the founders of their society and hold them as their creators.”  He shrugged.  “Which makes sense I guess.”

Martha looked pained.  “Then what do they hold on to, and who do they pray to when their spirit and their hope begins to fall?”

Maze sucked in a click through her teeth.  “They don’t.”

“They wallow, and they suffer,” Lucifer offered.  “They punish themselves.  They don’t need the likes of me.  Their demons are inside all of them.”

Maze chuckled.  “Act like Gods, but are really demons in disguise.”

Lucifer chuckled.  “Didn’t Elvis write a song about that?”

Maze sneered.  Martha joined in with the amusement and laughed lightly.

“With all seriousness,” Lucifer said finally.  “Your friend is lonely and in pain.”  He inhaled and didn’t bother to shield his smile.  “At your request, Martha, he’s been given a taste of what I can do for him.”  He swallowed thickly and lowered his head to peer through his brows onto the dancefloor.  “I imagine that he and I will come to a very swift and agreement that benefits us both in short time.”

Maze took a look out onto the dance floor and nodded with agreement.  She could see the tremor in the Doctor’s hands as he drew them up _Rose’s_ arms and onto her cheeks.  Slowly his fingertips inched up toward her temples.   She quickly looked away with a wince.

“Sooner rather than later I expect,” she warned warily. 

Lucifer and Martha both looked quickly out onto the floor, toward where the Doctor had ceased dancing, and stood still with his hands cupping the face of _Rose_.  He flexed his fingers on her temples and drew in a deep breath.

Within the beats of his two hearts, the Doctor suddenly stiffened and snatched his hands away from the woman posing as his beloved.   His head shook and his vision cleared as he took a long stride backward and held his hands out protectively in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out sadly with a firmer shake of his head as she stepped toward him with eyes full of puzzlement and question as to why he was pulling away.   “No.   I can’t.  You’re not … I’m very sorry.”

There was a pin-point sizzle of focus on his shoulder.  He knew almost immediately that it was the glare of Lucifer standing at the riling that overlooked the dancefloor.  With a crackling intensity of their own, his eyes shifted toward the Dark Lord to offer a glare of his own.    His glare only intensified to see the somewhat victorious grin stretched across Lucifer’s face.

On any other day, the Doctor might just lift his nose, shrug his shoulder, and turn on his plimsoled heel away to stalk away from the man.

…On any _other_ day.

But he could still feel her hand in his hand and smell her scent on his lapel.  The power of the absinthe had left his system a long time ago….  The power of Rose Tyler had not.

He balled his hands into fists and glowered toward Lucifer as he made a deliberate and determined stalk up the stairs and toward the table.  There was a sneer in his lip as he drew himself nose to nose and toe to toe against Earth’s most powerful celestial entity.

Lucifer, undaunted by the heated glare of the Time Lord, waggled a brow and smiled into the stare of the Oncoming Storm.  “Well.  Hello again.”

“Tell me,” the Doctor growled in a manner much more suited to his Ninth self than his current incarnation.

“Tell you _what_?” Lucifer practically sang, his smile practically audible as his lips slid across his teeth to form the smile.

“What it costs,” the Doctor answered without pause or waver.  “Tell me the cost.”

“To do what, Doctor?” Lucifer urged.  “Tell me what you want, what you desire most in this world, and I’ll tell you what the cost of dealing with me is.”

The Doctor drew in a deep breath.  He inhaled that breath and shuddered as all of his aggression, his fight, and his strength left him.   He almost wavered in his stand, but managed to hold it together with little more than a grimace of sorrow.

“Rose,” he croaked.  “Give her back to me, and I’ll make any deal you want.”


	6. Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to strike a deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quickly ... hope this moves it along!
> 
> Glad you guys are enjoying this! I'm having fun writing it.

_“To do what, Doctor?” Lucifer urged.  “Tell me what you want, what you desire most in this world, and I’ll tell you what the cost of dealing with me is.”_

_The Doctor drew in a deep breath.  He inhaled that breath and shuddered as all of his aggression, his fight, and his strength left him.   He almost wavered in his stand, but managed to hold it together with little more than a grimace of sorrow._

_“Rose,” he croaked.  “Give her back to me, and I’ll make any deal you want.”_

 

Martha’s breath drew in hard, and before she even had a chance to properly register the Doctor’s words, she was upon him with both hands on his chest; one hand over each heart.   She shook her head and tried to coax him to stride backwards with a shake of her head and a light push of her hands.

“Don’t do it, Doctor,” she warned.  “It’s not worth it.”

The Doctor blinked to shift his eyes from Lucifer to Martha.  His voice was curiously soft and his gaze full of question.  “Martha…?”

She shook her head side to side with more determined movements.  Her hands didn’t leave his chest.  She used the thumping of his hearts, alternating between her hands, to keep her steady and calm.

One-one-two-two.

She could feel the pull of the Right Atrium drawing in blood and then the push as his hearts moved his blood through to the next chamber.  But she couldn’t allow herself any form of clinical detachment.    And for what reason should she?  This was a situation that wasn’t in any way clinical…

“You can’t let these overrule your common sense,” she warned him tenderly.  “They’re leading you to danger, Doctor.”  Her fingers twitched against his pinstriped chest.  “Use your brain; that glorious superior brain of yours; and _think_.   Oh, please think about this.  I beg you.”

He covered her left hand with his right and offered her a sad smile.  “My brain leads me to far greater dangers than these ever could,” he countered somewhat ruefully with a pat against her hand to indicate his heart.  “I can’t ignore them this time.”

Her face creased with a wince of pleading.  Her voice whined in a pitiful plea to be heard.  “You’re promising a deal with the _Devil_ , Doctor.”  She shook her head.  “Nothing good comes from that.  Never.”

Lucifer sniffed huffily behind her.  “And who told you that, then?”

Her head twisted violently to glare at him.  “Everybody knows,” she growled in reply as she let her eyes rake up and along his lean form.  “It’s a known fact that making a deal with _you_ is the very _worst_ thing you can ever do.”

“For what reason?” he asked calmly as he leaned back casually against the railing.  He smiled as he folded one arm across his belly to give his elbow a ledge by which to rest it on.  He held his whiskey glass just short of his mouth and grinned with challenge.  “What are the reasons that you’ve been given to not want to enter into a bargain with me?   Martha, I can give you anything that you want – anything you truly desire, and my terms ….”

“I _don’t_ want,” she snarled.  She pushed back from the Doctor and rounded on Lucifer with a sizzle in her glare that would have made any other man back down and simper. 

Lucifer wasn’t a simpering fool, and merely smiled down at her ire.  “We _all_ want for _something_ , my dear.”

“Deals with you end up a fool’s bargain,” she growled.  “My soul to you for eternity, for what?  A few decades of decadence?”

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and hummed rather thoughtfully.  He kissed at the air and then looked down to her with a tilted head.  “Have you ever heard the phrase: _Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear_?”

She folded her arms across her chest and slouched in an indignant manner.  “What’s _that_ got to do with anything?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” the Doctor cut in from behind her.  He waited until she twisted her neck to look toward him and slid his hands into his trouser pockets.  “Not much is truly known about Satan – regardless of the myriad of texts that exist about him,” he began with a slow walk around the table, behind an amused Mazikeen, and then toward Martha’s other side to face Lucifer.

“Oh, he’s written off as some enemy of humanity, a dark figure who brings evil and temptation…”

“…a deceiver who leads humanity astray,” Lucifer continued with a shrug and a smile toward the Doctor.  “I’m touted as a fallen angel cast from Heaven by the Holy Father for waging war and inciting a revolution against he and his loyal minions-“

“Not exactly a lie,” Maze cut in with a chuckle into her drink.

“I rebelled,” he countered with a groan.  “Like every other normal teenager up here in Earth.”  He rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “That doesn’t justify the reputation I’ve been given of being a malevolent and abhorrent entity who makes deals to steal souls.”  At a laugh from Maze, he shot her a glare.  “Please.”

Maze waved her hand at him and managed to roll her eyes and twist away enough that it was a dismissal rather than a salute to accept his demand.  Martha noted Maze’s flippant agreement to the reputation and gestured urgently toward her with both hands.

“See?” she called.  “She agrees with the reputation you’ve been given.”

“Not really,” Maze countered with a smirk.  “On the surface he’s all that, I suppose.  But not any more than any of the breathing, walking meatbags on this planet.”  She leaned her elbows on the tabletop and shrugged as she slouched.  “I don’t usually have anything positive to say about him.  Quite honestly, he repulses me.”

“I like how you say that when we _aren’t_ sharing a bed,” he grumbled to himself.

“Which I haven’t for a while, and certainly don’t intend on doing any time in the near future,” she said with a wink and a smile.  Her eyes flitted back to Martha.  “Of course, that said.  Lucifer – and the rest of us condemned demons – really couldn’t be bothered with him plucking random souls just to have a bit of a play with when we get bored.  We’re busy enough with those who truly deserve it.”

“And when she says _busy_ , Martha, she’s means it,” he said with a huff.  “I could almost start recruiting more-“  His eyes flashed open and he grinned.  “Oh, that’s what I could do, Maze.  Give them what they want as part of an employment package.  Your pathetic Human life of debauchery and whims fulfilled – pre-payment for an eternity of torturing the more deserving members of this species.”

The Doctor had to chuckle.  “I imagine you’d be rather successful with a recruitment drive, given the hatred that these people feel toward very specific members of their species.”  He lifted his hand to count off his fingers.  “Hitler.  Mengele.  Bin Laden.   Genghis.  Trump…”

“Are you willing to submit your resume?” Lucifer teased with a grin and a wink.  “So you can have who it is that you truly desire?”

The Doctor sobered quickly.  His hands found their way back into his trouser pockets.  His head lowered and his bottom lip shifted to seat itself just slightly out from the top lip.  “Would that be the kind of terms I’d be looking at?”

Martha launched forward to clutch desperately at his hands.  “No.  Doctor, you can’t be considering this.”  She twisted her neck to look at Lucifer with pleading in her worried gaze.  “Please, Lucifer.  Don’t let him do this.  He’s too … he’s too important to the universe to do this.”

“Wow,” Luficer breathed out with almost disappoint surprise.  “You make it sound like I’m going to stalk him for the rest of his life to try and end it.”

“Well,” she said with a hiccup as she realized how she had come across.

“Look,” Lucifer said with a firm and sobered voice full of suave British inflection.  “Whatever you’ve heard about me.  Whatever reputation you’ve been taught about me  Forget it.  Forget anything you’ve ever been told; what you’ve read; and listen to me:  the man.”

“The Devil,” she breathed slowly in correction.

“Lucifer,” he corrected firmly.  “My name.  My _actual_ name is _Lucifer_.”  He flicked his hand with annoyed dismissal of her words.  “I am not the _Devil_ , _Satan_ , _Beelzebub,_ or whatever other colourful moniker that your kind has labeled me with.”

She gaped slightly, unable to comprehend the man against the legend.  “But…?”

“I certainly have no desire at all to chase this one,” he thumbed toward the Doctor, “around all of time and space with a pitchfork in my hand to try and expedite his trip to Hell.”  HE pulled himself off the railing with what looked to be a great deal of effort, and took the two strides forward required to stand chest to chest with Martha.  He lightly rested his hands on her shoulders and encouraged her to life her confused eyes to his.  “Look at me,” he urged tenderly.  “ _See_ me, Martha.  See me for who I really am.”

Her eyes raised, but her head didn’t lift.  She looked up warily through her brows and folded her arms across her belly.

“Do you know what my name means, Martha?”

She shook her head and looked toward the Doctor in question. “No, I don’t.  I’ve always known it to be a terrible word.”

“It’s Greek,” he answered her with a small smile.  “Its literal translation is _Bringer of Dawn_ , or Venus, the morning star.” He lifted his eyes to Lucifer.  “Which explains you using that as your surname.”

“Made sense at the time,” he confirmed without taking his eyes off Martha.  “Now, Love.  I’m not going to lie.  Well. I can’t lie.”

“You’re the master of deception,” Martha countered.  “Devious and dishonest.”

“My word is my bond,” he clarified sharply.  “And I take offence when I’m accused of dishonesty.  I’ve never lied, and I certainly won’t start now.”

“A liar says the same thing,” Martha countered firmly, her confidence rising.  “How do you honestly expect me to believe you?”

“Faith,” he answered swiftly.  “Belief.  Trust.”

“All of them reasons that I don’t believe you,” she countered with a tug at her shoulder to pull back from him.  Her chin rose so that she could look along her cheek at him.  “My faith has taught me that you aren’t to be trusted at all.”

The Doctor rubbed at his chin and made a somewhat strangled kind of sound in the back of his throat.  It drew their attention.

“I believe him,” he began slowly. 

Martha gasped.  “What did you say?”

“That I believe him, Martha,” he repeated with a smile.  “I mean.  Well.  If you do look at it from a strictly logistical standpoint…”

“Do I have to?” she moaned underneath her hand as she rubbed both brows and put out a long suffering sigh past a small smile.

“Think about it,” he crowed with a smile.  “If the ruler of Hell was up here making deal after deal to steal souls and torture them for eternity, then hell would get full rather quickly.  Eternity is that – Eternal.  Once you check in, you can’t check out again.  That sets up a perfect condition for overcrowding, wouldn’t you say?  Well.  That’s unless Lucifer has perfected some form of transdimensional-bigger-on-the-inside technology that makes his kingdom fathomless.”  He looked toward Lucifer with wide eyes that narrowed in question.  “You _haven’t_ , have you?”   

“As if I have the time,” he answered with a sigh.

“That’s a _no_ , then.”

“With a capital N,” Lucifer answered with a smirk.  “I really have no want or desire to drag down foolish hedonists when I have much more interesting and much more deserving souls to torture.”  He looked to Martha.  “My dear.  I’m a punisher.  Yes.  I will own that title and wear it with pride.  I have and will indulge in all of the sin and debauchery that every other human being on this planet will indulge in, and I will do it better than all of them put together.”  He chuckled.  “And I’ll feel absolutely no guilt about it at all in the morning.”  He drew in a breath and softened his voice as he reached out to touch her cheek.  “I will look into your soul and draw from you your deepest and most revered desires and make a mutually beneficial offer to make it happen for you.  Your pleasure can be mine – and who knows, it just might be.”

“Unlikely,” she threw back with a smile.

“But know this Martha Jones,” he continued firmly; his smile falling and his eyes half blazing with fire.  “I will not lie.  I will not deceive.  I will not go back on my word.  I won’t ever make any attempt to seduce a random person into falsehood and sin with mistruths of my own.”

“And what if my true desire is unattainable because the subject of my desire is otherwise…” she stopped when his finger met with her lip and he shook his head.

“Immediate desires aren’t your truest desire,” he corrected with a smile and a waggle in his brow.  “And I honestly think you’d find yourself quite disappointed if chose your acute desire over the more chronic needs you have.”

She smiled against the finger pressed against her lips and found herself becoming hopelessly drawn to the promise in his eyes…

…Her Nanna would be so very disappointed in her right now.

“You’ll achieve everything you desire,” he whispered with a husky tone full of promise.  “But none of that will be with my help.  You’re good enough to do it all on your own.”  He winked.  “Unless you want to seduce the Devil.  I’ll definitely have a hand in that … end enjoy every hot and sweaty moment of it.”

“And with that,” Martha groused with a roll in her eyes and a full stride backward from him.  “You’ve managed to kill any potential you had of _that_ happening.”

“How utterly devastating to hear,” he moaned with amusement and mock disappointment. 

“I still don’t trust your motives,” Martha affirmed – albeit it with a friendly smile.  “But I’m less inclined to want to run away from you screaming about a coming apocalypse.”

Lucifer groaned painfully at that and lifted his eyes to the ceiling.  “Ahhh.  The _Apocalypse_.”  His head dropped down and he gave her a friendly, yet small smile.  “Nothing like that coming any time soon, Martha, my dear.”

“Not when he’s still shoulders deep in debauchery and enjoying every second of it,” Maze offered with a smirk.  “Earth is safe.  Quite safe from a battle between warring celestial beings.”

“Safe from everything else, too,” the Doctor offered gravely.  “While I still have regenerations left to protect it.”

Lucifer hummed with a thoughtful smile.  “And speaking of, Doctor,” he purred.  “Would the Champion of Time like to protect both this planet and his hearts and enter into a plea deal with me?”

The Doctor ignored the small sound of protest from Martha with a rather delicate wave of his hand.  He kept his eyes on Lucifer and let one brow arch high over his eye.  “That depends,” he began warily.  “What are the terms of our agreement?”

“Simple really,” Lucifer answered with a small amount of excitement.  “You do something for me, and I’ll make sure that your Rose Tyler is returned to you.”

“Payment in advance?” The Doctor asked expectantly.  “Or will you expect me to fulfill my end of the bargain first?”

Lucifer rubbed at his chin.  He pursed his lips and stared hard at the curious Time Lord standing before him.  After a short moment, he stepped forward and set his glass down on the counter.  His eyes were still on the Doctor as he expertly poured himself a half glass of whiskey.  “Rose will be at your side prior to you having to fulfil your end of the bargain.”  He pursed his lips and frowned lightly.  “Not for very long, though.  She’ll be with you long enough for you to get a taste of her again; to remember what it is about her that you need so much.”

“Enough to make sure I don’t back out on our deal,” he said quietly in contemplation.  “And as you’ve proven me tonight, even the mere ghost of her is enough to make me want to do anything it takes to have her back.”  His voice cracked slightly.  “What do you want from me in return?”

Martha appeared at his side with a gentle call of his name inside a request for him to stop.

“What do I want?” Lucifer repeated with slight eagerness in his voice.  “Well.  That’s fairly simple, really.”  He inhaled as he drew his glass to his lips and took in a slight taste.  His eyes locked onto his glass as he continued to speak.  “There’s a prophesy that needs to be upheld.  I want you to make sure that the prophesy is fulfilled.”

“What prophesy is that?” The Doctor asked suspiciously.  “Who does this prophesy involve, and how can I possibly ensure it comes to pass?   Who will be effected by it, and what ramifications across this planet and the entire universe if I make it happen?”

“That,” Lucifer said with a deep inhale and a shrug in his shoulders,” is something I can’t answer right now.”

“Because you think I won’t agree,” the Doctor challenged gruffly.

“No,” Lucifer assured him with a shake in his head and a widening of his eyes. “No, that’s not it.  If I knew, then I’d be instinctively obliged to tell you.  The fact of the matter is that right now, I don’t know what it entails.   All I do know is that the fate of Earth, and quite possibly the entire universe, will be directly affected by whether or not you fulfil your end of our bargain.”

“And my end will be for the greater good, I expect?”

Lucifer snorted.  He nodded.  “This is my realm, Doctor.  If I’m asking you to do this, then I’m doing it to protect this planet – not to destroy it.”

“Prophesies are usually a double ended sword,” the Doctor mused to himself as he scratched his sideburn in thought.  “More often than not, there is a winner and a loser, and the price for losing is a heavy one to pay.”  He shifted his eyes toward Lucifer.  “Is there any reason why you can’t fulfil this prophesy yourself?”

“Because I’m not part of it,” Lucifer answered in strained tones as he pulled himself from his lean on the table and up into a stretch of his back that required him to lean backward to achieve his stretch.  He moaned as he drew himself back upright.  “Otherwise I wouldn’t bother you with it.  We could come to a much more interesting bargain instead.”

The Doctor inhaled a deep and long breath.  He held it a moment and spoke on a strained exhale.  “And what’s the true price I’ll be paying if I agree?”  He swallowed thickly.  “And the price if I back out before the prophesy can be fulfilled?”

“Are you planning to?”

The Doctor snorted.  “No.  I’m not.   But my life rarely follows any specific set plan.  Anything could happen…”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “And they say that I’m the untrustworthy one.”

“Answer the question,” the Doctor growled with impatience.

Lucifer let out a harsh breath, but seemed more tired than frustrated.  “By fulfilling the prophesy you will be saving the universe, Doctor.  Any price’s to pay will be paid by whoever happens to be threatening the universe at that time.”  He shrugged.  “Which could be anything, really.  It’s a pretty high likelihood that you won’t even know you’re actually in line with the damn thing.”

“Then how will I know I’ve met my end of the bargain?”

Lucifer smiled.  “Because you’ll have Rose Tyler at your side.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you won’t.”  He set his glass back onto the table and turned to face the Doctor directly.  His arms folded into a cross against his chest and he drew up his shoulders to loom up over the Time Lord.  “It’s quite simple, Doctor.  You will have Rose Tyler – your most loyal companion and the love of your many lives – at your side.  Her hand in yours.  Her forever for you to rut with, make babies with, shag across all time and space.”  He let that sink in a second.  “And I will have Earth.  Safe.  And the universe will remain intact so that you and Rose can continue to shag about time and space.”

“Then who pays the price for me getting what I want?”

Lucifer inhaled a deep and this time frustrated breath.  He held it for a long moment to calm himself down, and then exhaled it slowly through his nose.  After a second, shorter inhale, he answered quietly.  “I really don’t know.”  He shrugged.  “Yet something tells me that you probably won’t care.”

“I care because _she_ will,” the Doctor countered sharply.  “I _have_ to care, and I _have_ to know, because if it comes down to the choice of keeping Rose or trying to save the people that this prophesy of yours affects.”  His eyes were wise and his mouth slightly gaped as he shook his head and pinched his brows together.  “I don’t know that I can make that choice.  I can’t lose her again; but I can’t let people die just because of a prophesy I probably don’t even agree with.”

Martha’s hands curled around his upper arm and her voice kissed gently toward his ear.  “Doctor.  Let’s just go, yeah?  Maybe you can find another way to find Rose that won’t involve a deal with Lucifer.”

“There isn’t,” Lucifer confirmed darkly.  “I can at least verify that.”

Conflicting emotions flashed across the Doctor’s face.  He was obviously torn between ignoring the deal completely, and the possibilities available to him if he accepted.  Martha’s urging at his side was pulling him toward walking away from the situation.

Lucifer would have none of that.

“A few centuries of loneliness, heartache, regret and question, Doctor,” he ventured carefully.  “Or the possibility of saving the universe and having it all.”  He smirked at the flinch of indecision in the Doctor’s eye.  “The choice makes itself, really.”

For a moment it appeared that the Doctor might agree.  His eyes were side, his jaw clenched.  The dimple in his cheek deepened to a hollow and held for a moment.  It was a sudden exhale and shake in his head that released the clench of his jaw.

“I don’t know that I can,” he admitted brokenly.  “There’s too many variables that I can’t account for.  I can’t make the decision without knowing what the true price will be.”

“You won’t be sorry,” Lucifer vowed passionately.  “My word is my bond, Doctor.  I vow to you that there isn’t a price to be paid beyond what I’ve offered you.  You will get everything you desire most in this entire universe, and I’ll have my world to reign over…”  He frowned and rolled his eyes.  “Or _under_ as it were.”

The Doctor looked pained, but he shook his head.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Lucifer assured him quickly.  “When the time comes, you can make your decision then.”

“Make it when I have her at my fingertips, you mean,” he growled in reply.  “You’ll have me make that decision when I am not of a perfectly sound mind, rather than now, when at least I’m rational.”

“But are you?” Lucifer queried.  “Really?”

The Doctor drew his hand down the length of his face and held a wince for a short moment.  His hand shifted to the back of his neck and held there.  “If I say no to you right now, then I won’t have to make that decision down the line?”

“You won’t,” he assured him.  “If you tell me no, then you’ll never be put in the position to make that call.  If you say yes, or if you can’t give me an answer right now, then either way you’ll have that choice in the near future.  I assure you that it will always be your choice, right to the moment that you’re standing in the middle of the prophesy.”

“If the prophesy is fulfilled, then I’ll have Rose back,” he breathed out.

“And if it isn’t fulfilled, she’ll return right back to where she is now.”  He relaxed his hold against his chest and reached down to pick up his glass.  He let it hover at the edge of his lips.  “The choice is yours.”

The Doctor slowly stretched his arms to bury them deep inside his trouser pockets.  He slowly blinked his eyes and pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth as he considered his options.  Finally he have a curt nod of his head.  “When the time comes, then I’ll make the decision,” he vowed.  “But you need to vow to me that if the prophesy is fulfilled – no matter how it’s fulfilled - that Rose stays with me.”  He inhaled.  “Forever.”

“My word is my bond, Doctor.  And you have it.”

The Doctor gave another curt nod and held out his hand.  “And I will hold you to it.”

Lucifer’s face broke out into a satisfied and quite frankly brilliant grin.  He took the Doctor’s hand and shook it firmly.  “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Time Lord.”

The Doctor quickly drew back his hand and turned on his heel.  He took a short moment to look back over his shoulder toward Lucifer.  There was no smile on the Time Lord’s face.  “I still haven’t said yes.”

“But you will, I’m sure of that.”

Maze appeared at his side as Lucifer watched the Doctor leave the club.  He took note of the way Martha seemed to argue with him as they walked the dancefloor.  Although the Doctor didn’t talk or respond to his companion’s ranting and raving, he knew full well that the Time Lord was listening to every word she spoke and was using it to help make his decision.

“Do you think he’ll do it?” Maze asked carefully as she watched the pair walk through the front door to the club.

Lucifer’s eyes darkened as his eyes locked on the door of the club.  It was as though he could see beyond the doors and into the street to follow behind the Doctor and his companion.  He didn’t take his eyes from the door as he lifted his glass to his lips and drew back a long pull from his whiskey.  He winced just slightly at the burn of the alcohol not watered down by ice, and hissed just lightly,

“I think we can guarantee that the moment he sees Rose, that he won’t make any other decision at all.”  He blinked and looked down to his loyal demon partner with a grin much less dangerous and far more cheeky.  “He’ll get what he wants, and so will I.”  

He inhaled deeply and looked toward his piano.  With a widening smile as he snatched the bottle from the table, he strode with haughty confidence toward the centre of the club.  “Right.  Let’s get this party started, then, shall we?  Brittany,” he called with a slap on his thigh like he was calling a dog to his side.  “All three of you.  Come here.  I’ve had a victory tonight, and I’m ready to party!”


	7. Broken Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things didn't go the way Lucifer thought it would ... he has to answer to a distraught Time Lord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts off a little racy ... Oh definitely not NSFW, but it's a little more naughty that I would typically write. So I figured I'd better add a wee warning just in case I blindside those who don't like a little bit of slap and tickle... But come on. This is Lucifer. He's up to this stuff all. the. time!
> 
> This didn't go in any way the way I wanted it to go ... I had all these grandiose plans of absolute madness .. a clash between two very powerful beings.
> 
> Then I realized ... The Doctor might get all pissed off and furious, but he does know his limits... So damn .. I took a different tact.
> 
> I really hope that this makes sense, that it flows okay, and most importantly, that it's in character. I got interrupted a heck of a lot while writing this and haven't had time for a readthrough... but I fear if I do, I'll be here for five hours on rewrites.
> 
> I truly hope you enjoy this chapter.... Only one and then an epilogue to go!

Lucifer purred deep inside his chest as he watched his pale, pasty-white hand circle around the perfectly toned and textured ass-cheek of one of the two girls who had joined him this evening.  Her skin was silky soft to the touch; which was a pleasant contradiction against the thick and itchy fabric of the nun’s habit that had covered it.

Oh, how his heart thumped inside his chest in thrill when his two partners had arrived at his club dressed as two scowling nuns brandishing worn copies of the bible in one hand and a string of rosary beads in the other.

…He had delightful plans for those strings of wooden beads a little later on.

His thrill and glee heightened when they’d each snatched one of his ears and dragged him upstairs to his condo above the club.  He was quickly shoved down onto his couch and had a lap full of naughty nun before he’d finished his exhale of surprise.

His two partners – oh, what were their names? – made very quick work of shedding most of their outfits to get into their intended game.  They writhed and danced on his knees wearing nothing but a short scapular, cowl and veil to cover the sinfully lacy, tiny, fiery red and perfectly matched sets of underwear.

When one of them brought out a paddle.  Well.  His teeth locked tightly together into a grin of absolute devilish thrill and he expelled an almost juvenile growl as he launched from the couch to get this game going!  He slapped both girls on their naked asses and ordered them to their knees at his side; one to his left, the other at his right.

They both quickly dropped to a penitent pose of reverent prayer against his trouser-clad hips, and then in perfect synchronicity leaned over the cushions of the couch to lift their pert asses in the air. 

Lucifer couldn’t help but look to the sky and moan out to the heavens when one of them begged for him to _punish_ her for her sinful thoughts and desires.

He looked down to the pair of perfect asses and passed his gaze between is open hand and the paddle.  His mind warred slightly with the question of which one he should use first.

Initially he didn’t register the light buffering of wind that seemed to pick up from the corner of his condo.  Quite honestly, he assumed that the gusts were blowing in from the open glass doors of that led to the balcony.  The howling that circled with the wind he also attributed to the gusting breeze outside.

Lucifer didn’t quite register that anything was amiss until he heard a shriek of surprise from one of his _nuns_ and was thrown backward onto his ass on the coffee table behind him as she shuffled backward and knocked against his legs.

“What the…?”

“What is it?” she shrieked with panic as she held her arm across her chest to hide her red brassiere and snatched her long black tunic from the floor.  She shrieked again as a blue Police Box flickered in and out of reality as it slowly materialized inside the condo.  “This.  This is too weird.  Come on, Sandra.  I’m out of here!”

On his back on the coffee table, Lucifer let out a pitiful and moaned plea for her to stay.

“Oh don’t be like that.  It’s nothing to worry to worry worry about.  It’s just a phone box.”  His breath caught inside his chest as realization dawned.  He rolled onto his belly so that his knees were on the floor and his chest pressed into the tabletop.  “A bloody public call box,” he remarked with shock.  “In my living room?”

He was jerked to one side as Sandra roughly tugged her tunic from underneath him, but he didn’t react to it.  Instead his eyes were locked onto the Box in the corner of his living room that was whining and wheezing and flashing it’s lights at him.

Slowly, Lucifer pulled himself up onto his knees, and then to his feet.  He loomed at tall as he could as the Box fully materialized and then sat, silent, in the corner.

“What have we here, then?” He questioned inside a curious breath as he gingerly stepped around the table to approach with caution.  His immortality ensured that there was nothing inside the box that could kill him, but that didn’t save him from feeling the pain of a fatal strike if any might be forthcoming.

…And tonight had started so well…

As Lucifer was preparing to issue one of his very best and most practiced warnings toward whomever was inside the box, the twin blue doors burst open.  He took a startled stride backward and shielded his eyes with his forearm against the bright yellow light that burst from the interior of the box.

“You’ve just made yourself a huge mistake,” he threatened with a growl as a hunched figure emerged from the box. 

“No,” a furious voice with a smooth Estuary accent corrected.  “ _You’re_ the one who made a mistake, Lucifer Morningstar.  And you made the biggest mistake of all when you lied to me.”

“Doctor?”  Lucifer’s arm immediately fell from in front of his eyes.  He squinted into the light to try and focus on the approaching figure.  “Is that you?”

The Time Lord stood as a shadow in front of the bright light behind him.  Not a single feature was immediately identifiable to Lucifer, but he could see the furious hunch and the clenched fists hung low at the end of taut arms.  He could see the rage within the man.

“How dare you accuse me of lying to you?” he asked with a growl.  “I have never lied before, and I certainly don’t intend on starting with _you_.”

The Doctor lifted one hand up over his shoulder.  With a loud snap of his fingers the doors of the TARDIS slammed shut.  Immediately the light behind him shut off, and the Doctor’s true disheveled state became apparent.  It looked to Lucifer as though the Doctor had been caught in a deluge of rain.  His proud mane was plastered down flat on his head, his coat weighed down heavily, and mottled with varying shades of tan to show where he was dry, damp, wet and soaked. 

The furious stance that Lucifer had initially seen, was in fact a posture of absolute and utter sorrow born of betrayal.  This was a far more dangerous creature than one that was functioning solely on fury.  A pissed off Time Lord he could deal with; one who thought he’d been betrayed was a much more difficult beast to contain….

…Unless, of course, he was the betrayer who had angered the man.  Whilst he was quite sure that it was an impossibility that he was the betrayer, Lucifer wasn’t quite sure.

He approached cautiously, but with a smile and faux confidence to maintain his reputation.

“And just what brings you back here, then, Doctor?” he asked, and was proud to find that he’d maintained a steady voice underneath the glare of the Time Lord.  “I figured you have much better things to do across this entire universe than to come back and pay a visit to me.”  His eyes pinched a little as he further assessed the Doctor’s state.  “Where’s your friend Martha, then?  Getting ready in your timeship?”

“TARDIS,” the Doctor corrected on a low voice.

Lucifer cupped is hand around his ear and leaned forward.  “Sorry.  What was that?  I didn’t quite catch it.”

“My ship is called the TARDIS,” he clarified on a monotone voice.  There was no shift in his body, not a single movement of any muscle.  He stood as still as a stone statue carved with permanent leering glare.

Lucifer found more confidence and drew himself up to stand tall and curious.  He twisted his head slightly to be able to look at the Doctor with a slightly turned stare.  “And Martha?  Where is she?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

“Gone.”  He inhaled a deep breath and held it a moment.  The rest of his words tumbled from his mouth in a whisper.  “They’re all _gone_.”

Lucifer pursed his lips.  He spoke carefully again.  “I see.  So just how long has it been for you then, Doctor?”  His eyes pinched in an attempt to analyze the passage of time that the Doctor may have travelled.  “It’s been less than a week on my end.”

“You vowed to me,” the Doctor began darkly.  “When we met last, that she’d be at my side.”  He stepped forward, his muscles breaking from their frozen state almost audibly.  “All I had to do was make sure that the damn prophecy was fulfilled and Rose Tyler would be with me; her hand in mine, read to race across the universe as my partner, my companion, my _mate_.”

Lucifer swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes.  “That was my word and my bond to you, Doctor.”

The Doctor pulled himself up from his slow advance and clenched his fists at his sides.  “Do you have any idea what fulfilling that prophecy of yours entailed?  Do you have any idea just _who_ it was that saw that future and demanded that it happen?”  He snorted and then inhaled.  “Well?  Do you?”

Lucifer couldn’t lie to the man.  He _wouldn’t_ lie to him.  He had no idea what this prophecy entailed.  He only knew that the fate of Earth was at stake, and that only one man in the entire universe had the means to be able to see it through.   He slowly shook his head.  “No, Doctor.  I don’t.  Tell me, though.  Did you see to it that it came to pass?”

The Doctor thrust his hands inside his wet trouser pockets and winced at the discomfort of it.  He used that discomfort to keep his emotions high.

“I had to eliminate an entire species,” he began carefully on a voice steady and furious.  His eyes rose to glare at Lucifer through his brows.  “Genocide.  I had to commit genocide and wipe out an entire species in order to fulfill your damn prophecy.  A choice between killing off an entire race or keeping Rose Tyler at my side – that’s what you gave me.”  He paused a little, more for effect than anything, then took a stride forward.  “How can you force a decision like that, and call yourself an honest man?”

Lucifer laughed to himself and shook himself free of his own taut stance.  “I never said I was a good man,” he countered as he turned on his heel and walked toward his bar.  “I’m guessing there’s more to the prophecy than merely choosing between the woman you love and an entire species.  Judging by your ire and accusations, I suppose you chose to save the species and let Rose return to her side of the dimensional wall?”

The Doctor’s answer was silent.  So silent.  Practically inaudible. 

“The prophecy was fulfilled.”

Lucifer paused mid-pour of his whiskey and looked toward the Doctor with curiosity.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t get that.  What did you say?”

The Doctor lifted his head and looked down along the sharp bridge of his nose toward Lucifer.  “I said the prophecy was fulfilled.  The universe was saved.  The Dalek race was completely obliterated.  Planets that were out of their own space and time were returned to their correct positions in the universe.  All settled and all wonderful and normal again for the 27 different worlds that were pulled out of their regularly scheduled orbit around their suns.”  He kept his chin high, but dropped the set of his eyes to look down.  “Oh, there’ll be atmospheric disturbances, earthquakes, mayhem and catastrophe and natural disasters for days and months to come, but at least they’re all safe and sound and hunky dory.”

“And yet,” Lucifer noted as he leaned his forearms on the bar top and cupped his hand over his mouth to light a cigarette.  His words were muffled somewhat as he spoke around the stick.  “You say it with enough facetiousness that I might be led to believe that you’re disappointed by that.”

“I’m not.  Well.  Not really.”  The Doctor’s shoulders slumped and he strode quickly toward the bar.  He didn’t ask for Lucifer’s permission before he snatched the half-filled tumbler and drained its contents with a single gulp.  He winced at the acrid flavour of the liquor and hissed through his teeth as he set the glass back on the countertop.  “Truth of the matter is that the choice was taken out of my hands.  I should be happy about that.  No guilt on my conscience for the death of millions.”

“But?”

The Doctor snorted.  “But the guilt is still mine.  I might not have pressed the button with these hands,” he held up both hands and wiggled their fingers.  “But I still pressed it.”

“In what way?” Lucifer queried as he poured another drink. 

“In the way that _I_ pressed the button that ended the lives of millions of Daleks,” the Doctor answered slowly.  His eyes fell onto the newly topped off glass of whiskey, but he made no move to grab it.  “Well.  Not _me_ me.  My Metacrisis _me_.   So while it might not have been these particular hands that pressed the button and pulled on that lever, they were still hands that belonged to me.”

Lucifer pursed his lips and levered a weary stare toward the Doctor.  His voice was bland when he spoke.  “Yeah.  You lost me there.”  He followed up with that statement by throwing back his own large gulp of whiskey.

“It’s a complicated event in time and space,” the Doctor replied with a shrug and a roll in his eye.  “One of those _one of a kind_ things that’ll never be replicated – well, would never _want_ it to be replicated, actually.  The universe doesn’t need any more of me traipsing about.”

“Right.”  Lucifer shook his head and inhaled a deep draw from his cigarette.  He lifted his bead to bow the smoke up into the ceiling.  “So what’re you here for, then, Doctor?  It’s really not necessary for you to drop by just to let me know that you fulfilled your end of our bargain.  Take Rose, go and find yourself a secluded planet and spend the next decade screwing her blind against anything you can find.”

The mention of his lover’s name seemed to draw the ire back into the man, and the Doctor sizzled a furious glare toward Lucifer.  “You promised me that _if_ the prophecy was fulfilled, that I would have Rose Tyler at my side.”

“I did,” Lucifer replied carefully.  “I guess by your roller coasting hostility that something went somewhat awry with that plan?”

“Did you expect it to?” the Doctor seethed through his teeth.  “Was that your plan all along: Tempt and seduce the Time Lord to do your bidding, and then throw in a big old loophole to get away with your end of the bargain.”

“One,” Lucifer counted off with a flick of his finger.  “I expected you to fulfill your end of the bargain and end up with your heart’s true desire.”  He drew back another draw of his cigarette and blew it out almost immediately.  “Two:  I resent the accusation you’re making that I have somehow orchestrated a grandiose plan of deceit.  I’ve said it once, and I will repeat it for all eternity if I have to:  My word is my bond.  I made you a promise, and provided you stuck to your end of the bargain, then I’ll keep that promise.”

The Doctor leaned his forearms on the bar top and shifted the angle of his head to ensure that his eyes were in a direct line toward Lucifer’s.  “I kept my end of the bargain,” he confirmed darkly. 

Lucifer was confused.  “Then you have your Rose?”

“No,” he chipped in reply.  “I don’t.   Rose Tyler is back on her side of the parallel wall with another version of me.  And you know what?”  He straightened up and looked toward Lucifer without accusation.  “I actually initially went with it, you know.  I supposed that because _he_ was the one who destroyed the Daleks and fulfilled the prophecy, that he was the one who would end up with Rose.  I took them home, left them on that beach, and tore my hearts out of my chest as I walked away from the both of them.”

Lucifer lifted his glass with his fingertips and let it hang a little in his grip as he fired the Doctor a perplexed expression.  “I’m sorry, who is _he_ , and how did _he_ become the beneficiary of a deal made between _you_ and _I_?”

“ _He_ ,” the Doctor answered with a wince and a shrug.  “Is my metacrisis self.  A clone – I suppose you could say – of me created by a quirk in time, a severed right hand, a TARDIS and a Time Lord in peril, and a brilliant human who is far too stubborn and bull-headed for her own good.”

“Not with you so far, so keep going,” Lucifer urged through a breath filled with cigarette smoke. 

“This man.  This _other_ Doctor.  Well.  He’s _me_.”

“Another incarnation of you?” Lucifer ventured thickly.

“Not quite,” the Doctor answered with a wince.  He truly didn’t feel like breaking it down and explaining it properly.  “Well, maybe.  I guess.  Perhaps.”  His wince deepened and he shook his head.  “No.  Not a new incarnation at all.  He’s me.  A more human me, maybe, but me nonetheless.”  He inhaled ready to launch into a much deeper explanation of just what a Meta Crisis was, but was saved from having to do so with a grunt and a wave of the hand from Lucifer.

“Never mind.  Who this fellow is is really irrelevant to this whole situation,” Lucifer said with a huff.  “My word to you, Doctor, was that so long as the prophecy is fulfilled, that you would have Rose Tyler with you, forever.   There were no loopholes, no fine-print clauses or anything else.  I promised _you_ , not _him_ , _you_ that you’d have your Rose Tyler returned to you.”

“Then _his_ identity is very relevant,” the Doctor pressed.  “This _man_.  My Meta Crisis self.  Well.  He’s _me.”_

“What.  Your twin?”

“No,” he answered.  “He’s literally me.  Grown from my own hand with my aborted regeneration energies.  Same memories, same thoughts, same face, same hair, same everything… Except that he only has one heart.  One heart, but still me.”

Lucifer’s brows pinched together to form a deep divot between his brows.  He let out a long sigh.  “You know.  I was warned not to deal with a Time Lord.  Dad did it once, spent a good part of a millennium complaining about it.  But did I learn?”   He huffed and threw back a full glass of whiskey.  He poured another as he winced out the burn of the liquor, and then threw back another shot.

Lucifer finally slammed the glass back down onto the table and lifted his cigarette to draw back a deep pull from it.  He spoke as he exhaled a long stream of grey smoke.  “So.  If I’m reading this right.  You are two men.  One of you has the girl.  The other one doesn’t.  However, the terms of our deal was met to what is no doubt my very happy satisfaction.”

The Doctor lifted his eyes to the ceiling and replayed Lucifer’s words.  He then looked back down at him and nodded.  “Yep.  Sounds much less complicated than it really is.  But.  Yes.  It’s accurate.”

Lucifer looked at him with weary eyes.  “And the both of you want the girl?”

The Doctor nodded slowly.  He spoke with a gust of breath and through a whisper of longing.  “Desperately.”

“And because you don’t have the girl,” Lucifer continued.  “You’ve decided that I added a sneaky loophole to our deal, and so now you’ve killed an entire species and not gotten anything in return.”  He cleared his throat.  “Despite being rid of the one species in this universe that truly deserves genocide to be taken against them.”

“No species ever deserves that.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lucifer said with a sniff.  He then thumbed at his nose and tossed the remains of his cigarette into an abandoned glass of watered down whiskey from a round of drinks poured more than an hour earlier.  “But.  You’re here to charge me with misdeeds and underhanded bargaining –“  he lifted his hand in a request. To prevent the Doctor from commenting.  “And I can understand your upset.  Don’t think I don’t.  But I told you.  I gave you my word and as I’ve said repeatedly…”

“Your word is your bond,” the Doctor finished.  “But you have no way of being able to keep to your word.”

Lucifer snorted.  “Don’t I?”

The Doctor shook his head.  Sorrow had long replaced his fury, and he was unable to maintain the façade of fury any longer.  “How can you?  He is me, and therefore the bargain we made is extended to him by default.”

“You separated into two men, and he therefore became you _after_ the two of us made our bargain?”

The Doctor nodded.  “I believe that you’re catching on.”

Lucifer shook his head.  “Not really, but I’m running with it for now.”  He slouched over the bar top and pressed his elbows heavily into the glossed wood surface.  “Which means I’ve made identical deals with two men.  One has my end of the bargain fulfilled, and the other – you – remains unfulfilled and is therefore feeling a sense of betrayal that I’ve backed out on a technicality.”

“Yep.”  He popped his p heavier than normal.

“Not only have I lost _her_ ,” he breathed out sadly.  “But I’ve lost everyone.  I’ve lost my best friend, who can’t even remember that she was such an important part of my lives, and I’ve had to say goodbye to everyone else.”  His voice broke.  “I’m alone.  I’ve got two shattered hearts…”

“And you need to blame someone.”

“Yep.”

“Not really fair on me,” Lucifer gruffed.  “This is a variable I couldn’t possibly have accounted for.  I’ve never even heard of a meta crisis.”

“As I said,” the Doctor moaned out pitifully.  “It’s a complicated event in time and space.  One of a kind thing, really.  Never been another before me.”

“Ha!” Lucifer cheered.  “Then my betrayal is at _your_ hand, not mine!”

The Doctor’s anger flashed briefly across his eyes, but it was short lived.  He expelled his anger with an exhale and nodded slowly.  “You could say that.”

“Yeah.  Well.”  Lucifer threw back another long gulp of whiskey and snatched his pack of cigarettes from the countertop.  “I’m not comfortable with that turn of events.  It gives me a bad name.”  He smirked and pulled a stick from the package.  “Well.  Not that I don’t already have one.  Thank you Dad.  But it puts a negative spin on my ability to meet any bargains, and could quite possibly affect any future dealings.  So.  That all said.”

The Doctor looked at him with confusion, yet with expectation and curiosity.

Lucifer grinned and popped the cigarette in between his lips.  “Let’s put in an amendment, shall we?  No sense in only one of the two of you getting what you want.”  He curled his hand around the cigarette and lit it with a gold and elaborate looking Dunhill lighter.  “You want Rose.  You’ll get her.”

“How do you propose to do that?” the Doctor queried with a frown and narrowed eyes.  “Rose Tyler exists only in one universe in the entire multiverse.  You have no way of finding another to take her place.  Quite frankly, I don’t want another one.”

“You won’t.”

“And if you take her from him, then you’re reneging on the deal you made with him.”  He shook his head.  “They have compatible life spans, he and Rose.  They will grow old together.  They’ll probably die together.  It’s impossible to be able to meet your end of our deal.”

“Impossible,” Lucifer repeated with a grin both on his face and I his voice.  “I like those odds.”

“Impossible isn’t an _odd_ or a _wager_ , Lucifer.”  The Doctor shook his head. 

“Oh,” he chuckled.  “It is.  I’ll make it so.”

The Doctor didn’t say anything else, he merely let out a breath and looked to the ceiling. 

Lucifer looked at the defeated Time Lord with a feeling of defeat himself.  Never before had a deal gone so pear shaped. 

“Do me a favour, Time Lord.  Go back into your ship - Your _TARDIS_ , or whatever you call it.  Go back on your adventures of mayhem through time and space.”  He gestured toward the TARDIS.  “I honestly wish it could’ve turned out differently.  I’m actually very sorry that it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor drawled defeatedly.  “I should probably go.”

Lucifer watched with an arch in his row as the Doctor pulled himself from the bar and slid his hands into his still damp trouser pockets.  His hunch was now one of sorrow as he walked slowly back toward his ship.

“For what it’s worth, Doctor.  This wasn’t my intention.  I didn’t know this would happen, and I certainly didn’t account for it.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor breathed despondently over his shoulder.  “You’re used to dealing with Humans who don’t have these sorts of _things_ happen to them.”  He turned back to the TARDIS doors and paused to exhale before he pressed his hands into the wood and opened the door.

“I’ve saved your planet, and the universe, Lucifer.  At least we have that.”

“WE do.”

The Doctor looked over his shoulder and gave Lucifer a weak smile.  “Good bye.  I wish I could say this was a pleasure.”  He looked back to the interior of his ship, and then stepped inside.  “I really do.”

Lucifer watched with wide eyes as the doors to the ship slammed shut and the TARDIS dematerialized out of view with a whine and a wheeze, a screech and a howl.  None of this sat well with him at all.  Never once had the universe taunted him in this manner.  Not even his father at the peak of his anger could pull a trick on him like this and attempt to destroy him in such a way.

Well.  He wasn’t going to let this go down in this way.  He was bloody Satan for Christ’s sake.  He had the power, and this time he was damn well going to use it.

“I made you a promise, Time Lord,” Lucifer began with a  curl in his lip.  “And I will follow through with that promise.”


	8. Darillium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor says another Goodbye...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now. I know it looks like I ignored a whole section here ... the one where Lucifer does his bit and makes things happen? I haven't really. But if I wrote up what he did to make things right, then it'd give away the surprise, right?
> 
> Not going to do that ... nope ... snicker.
> 
> Now. Before I send you to the fic, let me give a quick warning here. If you are a River Song fan and you salivate over the Doctor/River "romance", then you truly don't want to read this bit. This is really not supportive of the River/Doctor thing at all ... not ... at ... all...
> 
> What follows below is part of my own headcannon of what truly existed between them based on my interpretations of what we saw on screen during that rather tasteless couple of seasons that had me asking if I was watching a daytime soap opera rather than Doctor Who. I never saw any genuine love between them, from either of them... so this is my take on what saw was essentially a loveless union.
> 
> Other than that bit ... enjoy ... I hope.

His grey hair needed a trim, the Doctor thought distractedly as he stood alone on the balcony that overlooked the twin singing towers of Darilium.  He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the _last_ evening that he had planned to spend with River Song, and yet he stood alone.

He should have expected that they wouldn’t last the entire evening.  River was less capable of remaining lead footed in the one place than even he was.  Her feet – so much younger than his – itched more than his.  Those itchy feet, and her entire body, despised being in one place for any significant amount of time.   Move up and move along. 

He should have expected that she wouldn’t stay with him for the entire night.  She’d never stayed at his side for any real prolonged periods of time.  Even when he needed her most, and asked her to stay with him she refused.

He’d lost his dearest friends.  His hearts were shattered.  He needed the one who called herself his _wife_ to stand at his side and help shoulder some of the burden of grief.

_“Travel with me, then,”_ he’d asked her brokenly at the time, hoping that his youthful voice would adequately convey to her every ounce of pain he felt at the loneliness that had once again befallen him.

She gave her that patented seductive look and promised him with a husky tone that she’d travel with him whenever and wherever he wanted to go… And he’d immediately believed her.  Relief flooded him and he found his smile … 

…Until she quickly switched her mood and amended her promise.  “ _But not all the time.  One psychopath per TARDIS, don’t you think?_ ”

His hope fell at that moment.  With that rejection, the Doctor knew that any chance at all that he and River Song could break through their respective walls of guilt and accusation was gone.  He would never be able to come to terms with that he’d caused, and she would never let him forget it.

Give him nothing but guilt and call it love… 

That said, he really didn’t know why he felt so compelled to ask her knowing that she’d decline.  He knew full well that River could no less travel with him than he could with her.  They could take each other in small doses, but there was no way they could survive each other’s company for the long haul. 

So he was hardly surprised that she’d given him a weak smile and walked away from him before they were really into the deepest part of the evening.  In relative time, he’d assessed her stay with him to be not much longer than an Earth year.  It hadn’t even been the equivalent of a month before those itchy feet of hers began to dance and her eyes began to wander.  He knew it would be only a matter of time before she walked out of his life and toward the end of her own.

He’d pleaded for her to stay with him just that little bit longer.  He wasn’t get ready to send her to the library where her heart would be broken and her life ended.   He tried all manner of tactics to convince her to stay with him.  He’d proclaimed love and need and a true desire to make something of the two of them.  

She’d laughed and called him a liar.  “ _Don’t try to tempt me with your hollow declarations of deep affection, Sweetie. I might be foolish, but I’m not a fool.   I know you to be very capable of loving someone – many someones actually – but to actually_ fall in love _?  No, Doctor.  That’s not you.  That’s beneath you.  There’s not a single being in this entire universe that has what it takes to make_ you _fall in love with_ them _.  You’re far too selfish for that.”_

He told her that she was wrong, that he was perfectly capable of being in love.

She laughed and lifted her hand to pet him condescendingly against his cheek.  “ _Don’t confuse love with guilt, Sweetie.  You could no more love me than I could truly love you.”_

That revelation dropped more than just his jaw.  For their entire relationship – every single moment they’d known each other – no matter what side of the timestream they were on – she had always made it very clear that he was very much the centre of her entire universe.  She loved him, and she said so much more than once.

When he looked at her with eyes of utter and absolute confusion, she cruelly laughed.

_“Our entire relationship is a lie,”_ said with genuine remorse.  “ _Lies from you.  Lies from me.  Guilt from both parties_.”   She pressed her finger to his lip before his confusion could pass through his lips in question.  “ _If we were truly a happily married couple.  If you were truly the man who held both of my hearts, do you truly believe that I would be adventuring without you; that I would love and marry other men?_

_We are, and always have been, in a marriage of convenience, you and I, Doctor.  I carry your name as my husband to open doors and escape trouble when I find it.  You let me have that so you can lessen your guilt._

_I’m not joking when I tell you that I hate you, Doctor.  I do.  I hate you so very much.  I feel lifted when I say that to you._

_Hate and love,”_ she whispered distractedly.  _“Both such strong and overwhelming emotions that they may as well be one in the same.  I hate you so much that I love you, I love you so much that I hate you._

_I’m everything I am because of you.  Every negative part of me as well as anything good that’s inside me is all at your hand.  You’re not my lover; you’re my creator.  You created me to worship you as much as despise you…_

_…and we called it love._ ”

He wanted to disagree with her, but knew that he couldn’t.  He loved her.  He cared very, very deeply for her. 

…But he wasn’t in love with her.

…And apparently, she wasn’t in love with him either.  Oh, she loved him.  There was no doubt of that.  But like him, she wasn’t in love.

He could call her cruel for making him believe – on their very first meeting, when she whispered his name into his ear – that they’d end up so deeply in love.  He’d spent their entire relationship believing it was going to happen and wondering exactly when it would. 

Part of him believed that this last evening of theirs, the longest evening he could find across the entire universe for her to spend as her last, that perhaps they could make it happen.   They couldn’t, and they didn’t.    They couldn’t even find enough between them to fall into bed and even pretend to be in love.

His name.  The reason this whole path was taken to begin with.  He hadn’t spoken it against her ear with reverence and promises of forever.  It was told to her more as an afterthought than anything else.  Called to her retreating back as she stepped into a transport headed off-world from Darillium.  He called it across ten metres of drylands on a broken voice that begged her never to forget it.

She gave him that vow as she blew him a kiss and let the door slide closed in front of her.  She mouthed that she loved him as the transport rose up from the ground and disappeared. 

She was gone, and he’d never see her again.

They were all gone.

Once again, he was all alone.

He wondered where he could possibly go from here.  Should he find himself a new companion and return to blindly travelling across all time and space looking for new adventures and new ways for him to burn through his regenerations until he finally – _finally_ – had none left to burn and could take his place at Trenzalore and finally rest?

Could he really put his hearts through more of the same by picking up stray after stray and letting them sear themselves across his very soul?

He supposed so.

But not right now.  Not yet.  He needed time to recover; time to stand still, to remember, to let go and try to live again.

A whisper of a name long pushed into the deepest recesses of his mind suddenly swirled inside his head.  A name that he’d held onto for nearly fifteen hundred years.

_Rose_.

He had to laugh to himself that her name swirled up to embrace him in a moment when he truly needed it most.  Although it represented unbearable pain, that name still made him smile and hold out for hope.  It was a name that made things better; that made _him_ better, and should never have been one shoved behind a padlocked, gilded door in his mind.

When he locked away that name.  When he regenerated into a new man.  When his brown eyes turned green and he emerged from the fires of regeneration first into a _child_ and then into a grumpy and aged old fool, he became the one thing he vowed he would never become.

He was not the Champion of Time and the defender of the universe any more.  He became a bitter and ruthless fool.  A man who courted danger and danced among the carnage of each and every one of his follies without sparing a single thought toward anyone else.  He became selfish and blind.  Unkind and uncaring.

A coward who was cruel, who gave up and gave in.  To incarnations that were completely unrecognizable to the man he had been for so long.

He thought that the change might make him better, that if he was selfish and manipulative, that his hearts need never break again.

…That just made it all so much worse.

His breath shuddered as he exhaled slowly into the darkness in front of him.  The light of the setting sun was now so low behind the towers that its light was a mere strip light along the horizon.  The angle of the light drew up the length of the two towers, elongating them up higher into the darkening sky above them.  Their warm song whistled shrilly within the winds and curled upward as the cooling air rushed down to lift the song to a crescendo that finally faded out above his head.

By Rassilon this place was magnificent.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head backward to let the haunting new song, changed by shifting winds, ghost across his ears.  He could feel the winds shift and change and pick up to gust and blow.  He isolated the sounds produced by each shift of the wind; the whistle of the east, the whimper from the west, the call and howl of the North and south…

…The distant screech of a sentient being breaking through the Vortex…

A TARDIS.

His eyes flashed open and slowly, he lowered his head to focus on the point he knew that the ship would materialize. 

Gallifrey was alive and thriving once more, this sound wasn’t a surprise or a cause of thrill for him.  If anything, he took it as a sound of annoyance.  His solitude was about to be interrupted, and he wasn’t happy about that.  Whoever this Time Lord or Lady was, they were very likely looking for him.  Once again, it looked as though he was set to become Gallifrey’s errant little messenger boy.

Just.  Fucking.  Great.

With a great sigh of annoyance, the Doctor walked toward a rickety maintenance staircase beside the balcony railing.  His hands slipped into his trouser pockets and he briskly made his way down the stairs and toward the barren lands below.

His mind concocted a rather believable tirade of displeasure and chiding toward whomever was looking for him.  As he stalked across the darkening sand bright orange lights set up by the restaurant and the tourism trade group to highlight the towers flickered to life to illuminate both the Doctor and the scene he strode toward. 

The TARDIS materialized in the exact location he had expected.  It wasn’t the slick, grey-steel cylinder that he had been expecting, however.  It didn’t really have any particularly recognizable shape to it.  The ship looked to be a large materializing chunk of brilliant orange coral that would have seemed far more at home underneath the waves of an ocean than on the hot sands of an arid land.

He stopped to drop himself into a defiant and displeased hunch as the ship finalized its materialization and then sat, silent, in a space that was almost at the dead centre of the valley between the towers.  He held his breath as the centre of the coral split into a doorway that opened up to reveal a bright light and two young Time Lords that stood eagerly at the threshold between what that which they knew, and the mysteries of what they didn’t.

He could feel their excitement in the periphery of his mind, and for the very smallest of moments, he allowed himself to feel somewhat envious that their youthful curiosity had not yet been tainted by the realities and truths of travelling the universe.

He watched with narrowed eyes as the female – a time Lady who looked to be in her twenties – made the first move to step out of their ship.  She bounced excitedly on her toes and turned back toward her male partner with a giggle of glee and a demand that he absolutely had to _step out and see this_!

Oh.  He was young once.  Once upon a time he was young and thrilled just like her, and the memory of it made him smile.  Oh, how he missed that exuberance.

“Where did we end up then?” she called toward her male partner, who stepped out of the TARDIS with much more caution than she did.

“Not quite sure, Lizzie” he answered with a soft Estuary accent.  “Dad says that because we don’t have any connection with the Eye of Harmony, we cant get an anchor point on Gallifrey to properly navigate once we got through the breach and into the vortex.  We could be anywhere.”

The Doctor stepped forward.  His voice was rough, yet lecturing at the same time.  “You’re on Darillium,” he began firmly.  “A small planet near Gamma Eridani in the Andromeda Galaxy.”  He waited until two set of eyes were on him, and tried not to smile at the stunned expressions on their faces.  “It’s a relatively small planet with a rather sparce population.  The lack of indigenous species here is the result of an asteroid colliding with Darillium not too long ago, but they are rebuilding – both their planet and their population.”

The young man tilted backward a little to speak into the open doors of the TARDIS.  “Uh.  Mum.  Dad.  We’ve got company, yeah.”

A blonde head poked out of the doors of the TARDIS with wide eyes of question that scanned first her two children, and then across the sands toward the Doctor.

His breath caught in his throat and refused to move.   There was only one word on his tongue, but he couldn’t vocalise it like he wanted to.

_Rose._

She emerged fully from the time ship and he felt his knees give way.  He stumbled, but managed to catch himself before he collapsed into the dirt.  She looked exactly the same as she did when he’d last seen her.   Her hair was longer, darker, more natural a shade.  Her cheeks were still pert and full of colour, and her figure just as young and lovely as the day he met her.

She looked at him then, just in time for him to properly steady himself, and wiped her hands on her thighs as she approached him with a wide smile across her cheeks and a fathomless warmth in her eyes.  She held out her hand when she pulled herself up about five feet away from him.

“Hello.  I’m Rose.  Rose Tyler.  These are my children, Liz and James.”  She paused and waited for him to take her hand.  When he didn’t (couldn’t), she shrugged and dropped her hand.  “Sorry for barging in like this.  My husband is having some navigation difficulties right now with our ship, but we should be okay once he can get the connection with-“

“Rose?”

With the call of her name with an age-damaged and croaking voice both the Doctor and Rose looked toward the TARDIS.  The Doctor gasped, but Rose smiled lovingly, at an aged and decrepit figure that struggled to remain upright in the doorway of the TARDIS.  It was only the lean of his shoulder and the support of a cane that seemed to hold him up.

Rose wasted no time in spinning in the dirt to jog across the sand toward him.  “Oh Doctor.  Wait, just… Let me give you a hand.  You know you’re not supposed to be walking without your frame.  You could fall and hurt yourself.”

_Doctor_.

The Doctor’s eyes blew wide and his jaw gaped.  Was this his meta crisis self?  What had happened to him?   Those questions must have been plainly written across his expression, because the metacrisis Doctor looked to him and chuckled.   He then looped an arm across Rose’s shoulder and used her support to slowly, and with obvious effort, make their way toward him.

The walk was slow, and the aged Doctor quickly had the support of his son on the other side to Rose.  Three people as one, they took a good three minutes to close the distance between the TARDIS and the fully Time Lord Doctor.

“Hello,” the Meta Crisis Doctor croaked before he broke into a coughing fit.

The Doctor waited for the fit to subside before he offered a greeting of his own.

“You _are_ me, yes?” the metacrisis asked weakly with a slow nod and wrinkled eyes blown wide with question.

He heard Rose’s gasp, but didn’t look at her.  His focus was on the elderly man in front of him.  “Yes, Doctor.  I am _you_.”

“Good,” the Meta Crisis breathed gladly.  “I actually found-“ 

Without finishing his sentence, his eyes rolled backward into his head, and with a rattled exhale he slumped into a heap on the floor.


	9. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dying man has one last wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm ... not quite sure about this chapter. It didn't quite go in the direction that I hoped it would and it just seemed to want to go on forever and drive me barmy...
> 
> But! After a detour, it did get to the point I wanted to get to ... so that's something.
> 
> Thanks for a great response to the past few chapters. It's always a joy to hear from you! 
> 
> Warning for this chapter: Character Death. Not sure that it'll break hearts or anything, but I hope I managed to convey at least a little emotion in here... I struggle with this topic, so I've strayed far from my comfort zone to do it. Fingers crossed it works okay... Enjoy - I hope!

Rose Tyler stumbled gracelessly to her knees as the Meta Crisis Doctor collapsed against her.  She didn’t cry out his name or howl out in despair as she captured him in her arms to hold his back against her chest, but she did whimper out his name though wetted lips as they hit the ground together.

His rattled inhale and then cough as he breathed out was a relief to her.

“Doctor.  Now what did I tell you about walking without your frame,” she chided him quietly, sparing a small and frightened look toward their son before she looked down into his face.  “You’ve already had one hip replaced, we don’t want you breaking the other.”

His heavy-lidded eyes blinked open to slits, and he offered her a loving smile.  Her name passed quietly and reverently through his lips in an age-weathered and croaking voice.  “I just wanted a cuddle.  Cant-” he coughed and struggled on his inhale.  “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

Rose shifted her arms around his chest and rested her head against his.  She smiled against his ear as she nestled close to him.  “If you want cuddles, you only have to ask.”

He leaned in to her head and inhaled a deep and shuddered breath through his nose to capture her smell.  He had intended to tell her he loved her on a smooth voice and breath, but he’d held onto his breath for too long a moment.  All he was capable of was to say “I”, before he broke down with a rattling cough.

Rose.  Oh Rose.  She knew exactly what he was going to say and kissed at the shell of his ear.  Her reply was a ghosting whisper of her love for him against his ear. 

She looked up somewhat helplessly as the grey-haired stranger flicked the sides of his coat outward and dropped down into a crouch in front of them.  She couldn’t smile at him in greeting, or in anything else.  Her hearts were breaking inside her chest.

“Let me take a look at him,” he offered kindly with a mild Scottish brogue as he dropped one knee into the dirt and extended his hands outward.

Rose shook her head and held onto her husband a little tighter.  “There,” she coughed out sadly, unable to finish her sentence.

James took over on her behalf.  “There’s not much we can do for him,” he offered sadly.  “Surprised he’s held on this long, really. “

“James,” Rose hissed with admonishment. 

“Oh, it’s okay,” the Meta Crisis whispered with amusement.  “He’s not … He’s not saying anything I don’t already know, Rose.  I’ve already held on much longer than they said I would.”

“Still,” she answered sadly.  “There’s no need to be rude.”

“Rude,” the Meta Crisis said with a laugh and a cough.  “Rude and not ginger.  Just like his dad.”

Rose seemed to pick up a little.  Oh, there was still infinite sadness in her voice, but she tried hard to shield him from it.  “And you’re still going to hold on, yeah?  Because I promised you forever, Doctor, and you promised me the rest of my life.  My forever’s not finished yet, and neither’s my life.  So you have to stay with me and let me fulfill our promises.”

The Doctor reached forward again.  “Here, let me see if there’s anything I can do to help.”  Despite Rose looking at him with defiance and clutching the Meta Crisis more tightly against her, he continued to move forward.  “It’s okay,” he assured her.  “I’m a Doctor.”

The Meta Crisis laughed a gurgled laugh.  “Oh.  You’re not just _a_ Doctor,” he croaked out.  “You’re _the_ Doctor.”

Rose’s eyes lifted to look into the fathomless dirty blue eyes of the middle aged man in front of her.  His name passed through her lips.  When he answered her only with a slow blink of his eyes and a tiny nod, and Rose looked down to her husband with pain.

“Why did you bring us here?”  She sniffed in sharp and deep.  “Me and the kids.  Why did you bring us here?  To _him_?   You had all of time and space … why here?”

“To give you your forever,” he answered with a tightness in his brow that conveyed honest confusion.  “You know.  Keeping my promise to you.” 

Rose shook her head and lifted her eyes to the Doctor.  She held his gaze with an accusing stare of her own.  “I think he made it fairly clear that he didn’t want to share in any _forever_ s-“

“Don’t say that,” the Doctor muttered on a low voice.  “And certainly don’t for one moment _believe_ it.”  He looked down as a cold and knuckled hand curled around his elbow.  Although gnarled and obviously painfully arthritic, the grip was tight, and it took a lot of control not to jerk away from him.

“Doctor,” the Meta Crisis said with a croak and a cough.  “Luci-“  He coughed again.  “Lucifer didn’t lie to you,” he vowed passionately with a voice that seemed to be clearing.  “I know you thought that.  Rassilon, I thought the same thing myself when you abandoned us here.”

“That wasn’t abandonment,” the Doctor corrected through his teeth.  “That was sacrifice.”

“Oh, please.”

“You have no idea,” the Doctor argued passionately inside a barely audible voice.  “None.  You don’t know what I gave up, and how much it destroyed me to make that decision.”  He inhaled sadly.  “What I became when I left her here with you.”

The Meta Crisis inhaled deeply and held that breath for a moment before he could find his voice and respond.  When he did, his voice was quiet and patient.  “I have a fair idea,” he countered with far more strength that he looked to still have within him.  “I was there with you the first time, remember.  I _know_ exactly what we are capable of becoming without Rose Tyler at our side.”

“So you understand my sacrifice?” the Doctor questioned sadly. 

The Meta Crisis nodded slowly.  “Did you go back to him – to Lucifer – and tell him what happened?  Did you accuse him of betraying you?”

The Doctor lifted his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.  He held it and didn’t answer.

“Yeah,” the Meta Crisis said with a throaty chuckle.  “Figured you did.  Would have done the same, myself.”  He whimpered out his breath and breathed in twice through a rattling throat before he could continue.  “For a long while I half expected to see the walls rip open and you come back to get her with the devil at your side to reclaim her.”

The Doctor snapped a look back down at the clone of his tenth self.  He still didn’t speak.

“Oh, I waited for it,” he continued with a cough.  “But I didn’t let that stop me from making sure that I lived for every precious second I had with her.”  He looked up to Rose with aged eyes conveyed absolute and utter reverence toward her.  He lifted his hand to draw his fingertips down her wettening cheeks.  “We were married within a month, weren’t we, Rose?  Conceived our precious Liz within only a few days.  And oh.  Oh, wasn’t I happy for it?”

Rose’s eyes dribbled fat tears onto her cheeks as she nodded and attempted to smile in remembrance.  Her breath drew in hard and shaking and then blew out through shuddering lips as she tried to centre herself.

“Rose.  My precious girl.  You weren’t ready so fast, were you?”  He licked at his lips and tried hard to wet his tongue inside a drying mouth.  “Still so sure that I was going to leave you behind again.  Weren’t you?  But I didn’t.  Oh Rose, I couldn’t.  Not again.  Never again.”

“Shhhh,” she hushed though her tears.  “Please-“

“Sixty-seven years,” he barked proudly with a twist of his head toward the Doctor.  “We’ve been married for sixty-seven years now.”

“Congratulations,” the Doctor said quietly.

The Meta Crisis leaned his head back to look up at his beloved wife.  He lifted his hand to touch her face.  “Sixty-seven magnificent years together, Rose.  And we were happy, weren’t we?”

Rose curled her hand around his and leaned in to his touch.  She nodded slowly.  “We were.”

“I made you happy, didn’t I?” he asked her with all of the insecurity of a prepubescent boy asking the pretty girl out to the school prom.  “You ended up happy with me?”

“The happiest,” she answered his in a shuddering whisper that was as wet as her eyes.  “You made me feel like the luckiest girl in the entire multiverse.  Every day, Doctor.  Every day you proved to me that I was important to you…”

“That you were every star in the sky and my entire universe,” he corrected her shakily.  “The Doctor and Rose Tyler…”  He shifted his eyes to the Doctor.  “It falls so well from the tongue, so flawlessly and perfect that you know beyond all doubt that it was meant to be.  The Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS.”  He gave a single nod of urging toward the Doctor.  “Do on. Say it, Doctor.  Roll those words around in your mouth and realize just how _right_ they sound together.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” the Doctor replied quietly. 

“And they’re words that will _stay_ together, right?”

The Doctor heard the hitch in breath of Rose in front of him, still seated against the back of his Meta Crisis.  He couldn’t bring himself to look into her eyes.  “That all depends on Rose, doesn’t it?”

“You’re _me_ ,” the Mets Crisis replied as though it wasn’t in question.  “Of course-“

“I haven’t been _you_ for a very long time,” he corrected sharply before the Meta Crisis could finish his statement and very likely infuriate his wife.  “I’m two bodies and more than a millennia separated from that _you_.”

“Two bodies?” He gasped with surprise that caused him to break out into a coughing fit.  “But you only had a single regeneration left.  How?”

“Rassilon and the Time Lords,” the Doctor answered gravely as he watched a small rivulet of blood dribble from the Meta Crisis’ lip.  “I was on Trenzalore.  I was old.  So old, and I looked every day of my two thousand years of age.”

Rose gasped in surprise, but the Meta Crisis chuckled.  “Well.  You managed to stretch out that last incarnation.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a light chuckle.  “I was ready to die.  The Daleks invaded.”

“Why does everything have to involve Daleks?”

The Doctor moved from a knee to sit properly in the dirt at the Meta Crisis’ side.  He huffed and rolled his eyes.  “Who is the Doctor without the Daleks?” he mused by way of answering the obviously rhetorical question.  “But as I readied to make my last stand and finally fall to the damn machine, the sky split open, and I was given a new package of regenerations from Gallifrey.”

A stunned look passed over the Mets-Crisis’ face.  “Pardon me?”

The Doctor smiled.  “Gallifrey lives,” he told him with a smile.

The Meta Crisis struggled to sit up, but fell back onto Rose.  His head shook slowly from side to side in disbelief and his eyes were wide with hope.  “What did you say?”

The Doctor’s grin widened.  “We didn’t destroy Gallifrey, Doctor.  We _saved_ it.”  He held up his hand and shook his head before the aged version of his tenth self could argue.  “You wouldn’t remember it.  _I_ didn’t remember it until my next incarnation.  The time line in which we saved her was a convergence of all of our incarnations.  And Doctor,” he leaned forward to speak softly and with absolute reverence.  “Our cleverest moment was when we figured out how to save our home and all her children.”

The Meta Crisis hiccupped.  Tears flowed freely down his cheeks.  “We saved Gallifrey?   Have you been there?”

“I did,” the Doctor said with a smile.  He then tipped his head to one side and waggled his brows.  “I exiled Rassilon and most of the Time Lord Council.”  His grin widened.  “Oh, he kicked up a fuss, of course, the old fool, but with the support of the war council, he _got off my planet_.”

The Meta Crisis laughed a hacking sound of amusement and relief.  He looked up to Rose and wiped at his mouth.  “Did you hear that, Rose.  Gallifrey lives.  I didn’t destroy it after all.  I _saved_ it.”

Rose nodded and wiped a spot at the side of his mouth that he’d missed with her finger.  “I’m so happy for you, Doctor.  I am.”

The Meta Crisis turned back toward the Doctor.  “Will you take her there?”  He asked in a pleading tone.  “Rose, I mean.  To Gallifrey?  She and the kids.  They should see it.”

The Doctor looked toward Rose.  “Will you come with me, Rose?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head.  “I.  I can’t,” she stammered.  She rested her cheek against the Meta-Crisis’ temple and very lightly shook her head.  “Not yet.  Not now.  He needs me and … and I’m not leavin’ him.”  She swallowed and tried desperately to sober herself up.  “He’s too sick to travel right now.  Maybe in a little while.”  She looked to her husband.  “When you’re feeling better, Doctor.  You can take me and the kids, yeah?  You can play tour guide and tell us everything about all of your favourite places.”

“Rose.”  He struggled to sit up, but after a couple of fumbled attempts he managed to be able to face her.  “Sweetheart.”

She shook her head and the tears began to track their way down along a well-worn salty path along her cheek.  “Don’t,” she croaked.  “Don’t say it.  Don’t say it, because I’m not listening.”

“I’ve had sixty seven wonderful years with you, Rose,” he managed with a shudder in his voice.  “I think it’s time that you let-“

“No!” she barked loudly.  “I already told you, Doctor.  I’m not leaving you.”

“But I have to leave you,” he told her sadly.  He coughed again and struggled to inhale.  When he did it was with a wheeze.  “I.  I think it’s time.”

Rose Tyler shook her head and let her tears fall.  “No, no.  Doctor.  Don’t you dare.  You can’t leave me yet.  You and me, we’ve still got a lot of things left to do.”

“Things,” he wheezed painfully.  He looked toward the Doctor.  “Things you can do with him.”

She shook her head and sniffed wetly.  “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not you,” she answered with as much pain in her voice as she had sixty seven years ago back on a beach on Norway.  “And you’re still here.”

“Not for much longer,” he corrected with a splutter and a wince of pain.  “And I can’t move on until I know that you, Liz and James are going to be safe”  His eyes flicked to the Doctor.  “With _him_.”  He looked back to her.  “So promise me, Rose.  Promise me that you’ll-“

“I’m not makin’ that promise,” she growled angrily.  “And how can you ask me to?  Do you think that you’re so readily interchangeable that I can bounce from you to him so easily?”  She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.  “Well.  I can’t.”

“Rose.  He’s me,” the Meta Crisis pleaded desperately.  “And I’m _him_.  You _know_ that.”

“No I don’t,” she challenged with much less fight in her voice.  “It’s been nearly seventy years, Doctor.  He’s a whole different man.  _I’m_ a completely different person.”  She stroked at his thick and stringy grey hair, no longer the _really great hair_ it had been in his younger days, but it was still a proud mane.  “I know you want to try and convince me like you did on the beach all those years ago, Doctor.  But this time it’s different.  You and me, we’ve had nearly seven decades of memories together – none of which he has.  He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know the kids and how brilliant both of them are.”

“Please,” he begged.

She wiped again at her nose and shuddered a pained breath against the back of her hand.  “We’ll be okay, me and the kids.  We’ve got the baby TARDIS now.  We can continue on and follow in the path you and me used to take.  You’ve taught both of ‘em well.  They can do it.”

“But I want you safe,” he growled hotly in argument.  “And I can’t leave this universe without knowing that you’re with _him_ and are safe.  The universe, time and space, are dangerous, Rose.  You know that.  Let me – _him_ – hold your hand and keep you safe!”

“He’s not you, Doctor,” she argued impatiently.  “A man is the sum of his memories, and he has none of yours!”

The Meta Crisis’ eye hardened on his bull-headed wife.  He had imagined that this would be a difficult transition for her to take to make.  He knew it would take some convincing for her to voluntarily travel with the Doctor again.  He also knew that he was just as bullheaded as she was, and he’d had so many more years of practice at it.  He would ensure that before he took his final breath that he’d erase every single obstacle that stood in their way.

“Contact,” he growled toward the Doctor.

The Doctor looked up from where he had been staring at the dirt and looked toward his Meta Crisis self.  “Pardon me?”

“Oh don’t you listen,” he grumbled.  “I said _contact_.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened and he shook his head.  “Oh.  I’m sorry, Doctor.  I lost my ability for telepathic contact when I regenerated.”

The Meta Crisis was aghast.  “You lost _what_?  Are you kidding me,” he growled.  He then thrust his arms forward and clutched at the Doctor’s temples with wrinkled and gnarled fingers.  “Fine then,” he sneered,  “we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”  He clenched his teeth and slammed his eyes shut.  “OF all the things to lose in a regeneration,” he groused through his teeth.  “You let it take one of our most defining skills.”

“It wasn’t a choice,” the Doctor countered through his teeth as he felt the tidal wave of thoughts and emotion crashing through his weakened shields to engulf him completely.  He let out a cry as seven decades of memories invaded his mind and swirled, ebbed and flowed into every conceivable nook and cranny.

“Take it all,” the Meta Crisis growled in a voice that was quickly waning in strength.  “Don’t let my memories and the love we have die because this withered old body is giving up.”

The Doctor lifted his hands to clutch at his Meta Crisis’ touch as it began to falter against his temples.  He took in each memory and every thought that this man had held in his mind for seventy years, and he wanted as much as the dying man could offer him. 

…He wanted it all.

He pushed hard against the Meta Crisis’ hands to press them more firmly against his temples.  He exhaled a breath of longing and of thrill through an open mouth, crying out for more until the old man could give him no more.

The rush ended with a pop and a hiss as the old man finally dropped in a defeated slump in the dirt.  He fell hard against Rose’s chest and desperately struggled to breath.

“Tell me,” he panted awkwardly.  “Tell me that you got it.  All of it.”

The Doctor nodded with a crease in his brow and pain etched across his face.  “All of it.”

“Every moment,” he tried to confirm weakly as he felt the darkness pulling at him.  “Every single heart beat.”

The Doctor pressed his hand onto the Meta Crisis’ forehead and nodded his head.  “I promise you.”

Rose looked between both men with panic in her eyes.  Her own breath drew raggedly in and out as she desperately tried to figure out what had happened.

“What was that,” she croaked worriedly.   “What did you just do?”

“Memory transfer,” the Doctor answered sadly.  He could see the light within fading fast and prepared himself for the moment that he’d have to close his eyes with a light stroke of his fingers.  “He was me,” he breathed out sadly.  He then lifted reddening eyes up to Rose.  “And now I’m _him_.  Same thoughts.  Same memories.  Same feelings.”

A fat tear rolled down Rose’s cheek.  “Why?”  She looked down at her husband.  “Why would you do that?”

“So I’d know that when I’m gone you’d have a great life, Rose,” he answered in little more than a whisper.  “And do it for me, Love.  Have a great life.”

“I can’t,” she whispered through sobs.  “Not without you.   Please.   Don’t go.”

His hand shook terribly as he lifted it to touch at her face one last time.  His voice was wavering and almost inaudible by now.  “My precious girl.  I’m not going anywhere.  I’m right here.”

“I-“  she choked.  “I love you.”

He might have chuckled, but not vocally.  His eyes danced one last time as he smiled and drew a shaking finger along her lips.  “And I, Rose Tyler…”

The rest of that sentence didn’t come.  His breath drew in deep and hard and his body stiffened against her.  With a rattling exhale that drew out too long, he fell limp.  His hand fell to the dirt and his head lolled down to one side.

A long howl of utter sorrow bellowed out of Rose’s chest as she clutched the lifeless body Meta Crisis against her chest.  She contracted around him and sobbed desperately as both of her children, distraught in their own silent ways, fell at her side to offer comfort.

The Doctor swept his fingers over the eyes of his clone, and breathed a silent Gallifreyan prayer as he closed the dead man’s eyes.  With respect he shuffled back slightly and hung his head as he replayed the Meta Crisis’ last words to their beloved Rose Tyler in his mind.

He lifted his eyes and finished that sentence for him in a whisper.

“I love you.”


	10. Funeral Pyre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose says goodbye to her husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am stunned by the reception that I got from the last chapter. I struggle when it comes to writing really heavy emotions (I always seem to rush toward levity instead), so I am glad ... so glad .. that I managed to pull it off this time around!!
> 
> Thank you so much!
> 
> This chapter is a little of the same, although I'm not sure if it is as emotionally heavy as the previous one. It's fairly short by my usual standards. I didn't want to drag this out any more than it needed to be - but I didn't think that I could ignore it completely.
> 
> We return to Earth next chapter and revisit a rather morose and unhappy Lucifer ... The Doctor and Rose make him an offer he'd be a fool to refuse... I can't wait to write it!!
> 
> Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The whistle of winds through silver-leafed trees and tall expansive mountain ranges was a far cry from the haunting song that curled around the twin towers that stood tall, mysterious and alone on Darillium. 

On Darillium the song had been somewhat mournful; a beautiful sound of lilting tones in a rising/falling tenor that wordlessly spoke of love and pain.   The chittering accompaniment of the birds was nature’s percussion, and as a symphony the sounds wove together in a tapestry so majestic that it could make you cry.

On Gallifrey, the sounds were more cheerful.  Rose would describe it more as the tinkling of piano keys and wind chimes.  Oh there was an undertone of melodic humming as the winds blew down the mountains and across the red grasses that provided adequate melancholy and reflection in the song.  Rose figured that in order to fully comprehend the more devastating song of the landscape that one would need to be inside the deepest throes of misery, because the happy tinkling and chittering overtones certainly did their best to overpower anything else.

Rose took a small moment to wonder if anyone on this planet had ever put lyrics to nature’s song.  She could imagine herself or her daughter taking time to do just that, and then lay back on the grass, look into the burnt orange sky and sing the song of Gallifrey to the heavens above them.

“You agree, too, don’t you Doctor,” she said quietly as she looked down and stroked the cool face of her husband laid out in robes of crimson and gold atop a grandiose funeral pyre.  “Although it was always _you_ and Lizzie making up stupid songs for every stilly little thing the two of you got up to.”

She waited for him to smile and agree with her like he normally would when she queried his antics with their children.  She wanted to hear that soft chuckle.  She wanted him to wake up and let her know that this was all just a horrible dream, that he wasn’t really gone.

Part of her wanted to pound angrily at his chest and demand that he wake back up.  She wanted to scream and beg and cry and accuse him of betraying the vows he’d made to her when they married; vows of never leaving her; of sharing the rest of their respective forevers together.

But she couldn’t do that to him.  He couldn’t fight the inevitability of death no matter what promises he’d made to her.  Although he constantly blamed himself, it wasn’t his fault that her own forever had become so much longer than either of them had anticipated.  It wasn’t his fault that she was to take on the burden of the Time Lords that he’d carried on his shoulders for so long…

She was the one who looked into the heart of the TARDIS – not him.  She was the one who chose to inhale the entire vortex as the TARDIS travelled from one end of her time stream to another to save him.

“He’s free now,” a soft voice crooned with a Scottish lilt at her side.  “And part of me …”  he sighed.  “Part of me is truly jealous of him right now.”

Rose let a tear dribble down her cheek and let out a forced and tiny chuckle.  “Don’t lie,” she managed quietly.  “If your time was up, you’d be kicking and screaming and telling the universe that you still had so much more to do and so they could just sod off and let you do it.”

“I didn’t when I was him,” the Doctor corrected softly as he placed his hand on his Meta Crisis’ shoulder and squeezed gently.  “He welcomed it, as I expect I will.”

Rose snorted somewhat angrily.  “Go back through his memories, Doctor,” she half snarled.  “He told me that you have them all now.”  She flicked her eyes up to him in challenge.  “Look back and you’ll see that when he first found out he was terminal he damn near lost his mind with anger at the universe over it.”

“Only because it meant leaving you behind,” he answered carefully.  “You now own the curse of the Time Lords, Rose.”  His eyes hardened in warning when he saw her expression shift to make an argument.  “Don’t think I don’t know _everything_ about your new physiology.”

She looked back toward her lifeless husband with eyes dried and locked on his aged and weathered face.   “Of course you do.”

“It’s why he worked tirelessly to find a way back across the parallel to find me again.”

“I know,” she answered flatly.

“You shouldn’t have to carry this burden by yourself,” he continued.  “He didn’t want that.”

“I’m not alone,” she said softly.  “I have the kids, and the three of us can be there for each other.”  She looked up toward the orange sky above them and chuckled wetly.  “Hell, there’s an entire planet of Time Lords now.  Maybe I can make some friends and… and…”  She hiccupped.  “And maybe…”  Her arms shifted to cross over her belly and she made an agonized sound as she contracted into herself and began to sob.

“What am I going to do without him?”

The Doctor stood still in place as he watched Rose fall apart in front of him.  In his previous two incarnations – even as far back as three or four – he would have immediately lunged forward to pull her securely against his chest in comfort.  It wouldn’t have been a consideration.  It would have been pure instinct, and he would have held her tightly within the circle of his arms to let her dissolve completely.  He wouldn’t have let her go until he was assured that she was no longer distressed and that she could stand on her own without faltering.

But that was so long ago for him now.  He lost his desire to embrace and be held in return when he sneezed and became this new – and rather grumpy – man.  His lack of desire for physical affection was so deeply ingrained within this old body of his, that he wasn’t even sure that he’d know how to hold her properly if she did come seeking comfort from him.  Even seeking out the memories of the comforts and affection that his Meta Crisis would offer her didn’t give him much of a clue.  

He hopelessly flapped his arms around and looked with terror from side to side to seek help from Rose’s two children as his hearts flailed inside his chest at her sounds of distress.  They were, unfortunately, at the base of the pyre standing with respect.

James encouraged him to comfort Rose with a nod of his head and a gesture of his hand toward his mother.

The Doctor shook his head with pleading.  “I can’t.  I don’t know-“

His words cut off with a cough of surprise as Rose’s distressed body collided with his chest and she collapsed against him.  Immediately his confusion fled and instinct took control.  His arms quickly found their place around her shuddering back and his cheek pressed gently against her hair.

“I feel so lost,” she sobbed into his chest.  “I don’t know what to do.” 

Her hands were balled into fists that bridged the space between her forehead and his chest, and the Doctor waited for her to begin pounding at him in frustration.  The pounding didn’t seem to come, but with the breath of her sobs panting sharply at his chest, she may as well have.   He felt every sob as though it were a swinging strike into his hearts.   Rather than pull back as his instinct demanded, his arms tightened around her.  He curled around her; a protective Time Lord cocoon, and whispered gently into her hair.  He spoke alien words of sympathy and apology and vows to help her find her way.

He wasn’t going to leave her.  Not now, and not ever again.  Even if she completely rejected his affections and demanded that he leave; if he was to remain just a flash of colour in her peripheral vision, he’d ensure that he would always be at her beck and call no matter what.

A soft feminine voice called from beside them both.

“Mum?”

Rose sniffed deeply and nodded against the Doctor’s chest.  She inhaled though an open mouth and slowly pulled herself free of the Doctor’s hold.  There was an apology on her lips and tongue as she wiped at her eyes, but the Doctor held them in place with a touch of his thumb against her lips.

“I’m here for you, Rose.”  His eyes shifted up to look toward Liz.  “And for them, too.”  His eyes fell to Rose once again.  “You are not alone.”

Rose bit at her lips and nodded slowly.  She let her eyes fall slowly shut and petted lightly at his chest.  “Thank you, Doctor.  For everything,” she whispered sadly.  “But we’ll be okay.”

He captured her hand before she could pull away from him completely, and he held it against his chest in between his beating hearts.

“It’s not up for negotiation, Rose,” he said firmly, but in a soft tone of voice.  “I know that you need time-“

Her indignant laugh cut his words, but he held her hand firmly against his chest.  “Time.  Right.”

“And I’ll give you all the time you need,” he continued.  His grip on her hand loosened when he was sure that she wasn’t going to pull away from him.  “But until then, like it or not, I’m going to be right here.  Right by your side, helping you, James and Elizabeth though this.”

“I’m not the first widow,” she breathed out sadly.  “And I certainly won’t be the last.” 

“Rose…”

She sniffed in deeply through her nose and looked over her shoulder toward her husband lying so still and so cold on top of a bed of aromatic Gallifreyan wood.  “We’ll be okay, I think.”  Her eyes flicked toward her daughter and her expression softened into pride.  “Won’t we, Sweetheart?”

“Course we will, Mum,” Liz answered quietly through a tender smile.  “Always okay, us.”

Familiar words brought a fresh wave of tears, and Rose dissolved once again.  This time, when the Doctor offered support by wrapping his arms around her from behind, she didn’t pull away from him.  She closed her eyes and leaned backward, hugging the forearms that curled supportively around her belly.

“I loved him, Doctor,” she managed weakly through her tears.  “God, I loved him.”

“And he loved you, too,” he murmured against her ear.  “So much.  So very much.”  

He held her in silence for another short moment and then urged her to step forward with a light press of his chest against her back.  “It’s time to say goodbye, Rose.  Go with Liz, and I’ll get things started up here.”

Rose nodded as she hugged herself and walked toward where her daughter stood at the Meta Crisis’ side.   Together the leaned forward to kiss his cheek, and then together they walked down the short set of stairs that led them off the pyre and down onto the grasses below.

The Doctor watched and waited for them to settle as a threesome at the base of the pyre and held his hands together to his front.  He bowed his head with silent respect and then stepped slowly forward to look upon the man who had fiercely guarded and loved the women who held both of their hearts in her hands.

“She’s a stubborn one, our Rose Tyler, isn’t she?” he began with a smile.  “Always fit to argue with us even when she knows we’re right.”  He chuckled lightly.  “Which is all the time, isn’t it?  Even when it isn’t.”

He moved a hand to touch at the Meta Crisis’ shoulder.  “I’ll take care of them.  All of them.  I promise you.”

He inhaled a deep breath and turned his head away as the smell of age and of death assaulted his senses.  It took effort for him to turn back to take a last look at him.  “Good bye _brother_.”

He lifted his head to the magnificent beam of white light at the centre line between his planet’s two suns; toward the converging power of two brilliant sources of light; and sent up a prayer toward the heavens.

He closed his eyes against the brilliant light and smiled as he extended his arms outward and loudly recited the Gallifreyan rites of homecoming for a fallen son.  With flourish and theatrics that only his people were capable, the Doctor pulled a burning torch from a cradle and dropped it onto the pyre.

He stepped back as the entire bed was almost immediately engulfed in brilliant orange flames.

 

 

 

Rose watched with tears in her eyes and pain in her hearts as her husband’s body suddenly burst into flame.   Her focus on the orange and yellow flames were such that she didn’t see the Doctor step away from the pyre and slowly make his way down the small stairs to stand at her side.

It wasn’t until she felt the flicker of his fingers against hers – a request for their hands to come together – that she registered his presence.  She didn’t take his hand, but she didn’t make any obvious moves to reject his advance completely.  Instead, she kept her head high and let her hand hang limp at her side.

“Where does he go from here?” she asked quietly.

The Doctor rocked his head down to look at her.  “This altar has been designed in such a way that the ashes of this pyre will automatically be scattered into the aqua-duct below.   From there, the underground stream will meet with the Cadonflood river.  His remains will end up scattered aalong the banks between here and Mount Lung.”  He lifted his chin to gesture toward the mountain towering above them.  “That would be largest mountain in that range, and where Lungbarrow once stood.”

“Lungbarrow?” she questioned gently without taking her eyes off the pyre.  “The old family homestead.”

“That’s the one,” he answered with a weak smile.  “Although it was reseeded in a different location after the original home’s destruction several centuries ago.”

“Did it survive the war, you think?”

The Doctor’s brows pinched together.  “I.  I hadn’t even considered it.  I’ve really only been back the one time, and I certainly didn’t have the time or desire to go visit.”

“I see,” Rose whispered softly.

“The last time I was here,” he began with curiosity in his tone.  “Well.  I’m not really sure exactly what the reason was, actually.  I’m believe it was for a friend, although her name escapes me right now.”  He let out a breath.  “I kept mainly to the drylands and the citadel.”

Rose nodded, her eyes still on the flames that were flapping and snapping with the early evening breeze flowing across the grassy plain.  “Do you want to go and see?” she offered softly.  “Take the journey along the river bank that the Doctor will take and join him at Lungbarrow when he comes home?”

“If you go, Rose Tyler, then I will follow.”

His twitching fingers found her hers and he tentatively took her hand in his.   Finally, she turned toward him.  She looked into his face, down to their joined hands, and then back up to meet his eyes.

“Do Time Lords believe in heaven and hell, Doctor?”

He tipped his head curiously at her.  There was a brief flare in his eyes as he readied to scoff and tell her that his people didn’t believe in anything so preposterous, but then he remembered the man in Los Angeles.

Heaven and Hell and the hope of eternity in paradise were ideals that were so important to Humans.  And if it would ease her hearts a little, then he was willing to lie just a little.

“I’ve met the Devil,” he said finally with a smile.  “Quite an interesting fellow.”

“On Krop Tor?” she asked with challenge in her eyes.  “You told me that it wasn’t the Devil.”

 

He shook his head and smiled.  “No.  That wasn’t the Devil,” he confirmed.  “Not even remotely close to the man who punishes the sinner and makes deals with the desperate.”  He sighed.  “If you can believe it I had drinks with Lucifer in LA.  He owns a club called Lux.  He seemed to enjoy whiskey, and certainly took a shine to my friend Martha.”

Rose licked at her lip and seemed to be fighting off another wave of emotion as her eyes looked back to the flaming pyre in front of them.  “Sounds like…”  She cleared her throat and winced as she spoke.  “Sounds like an interesting person.”

“I know that he told you about him,” the Doctor warned her gently.  He tapped at his temple to indicate his memory.  “He mentioned it to you the day after Bad Wolf Bay.  Right after he found the second heart beating inside your chest.”

Rose nodded slowly.  “I didn’t believe him at first,” she admitted.  “It’s just too mental to be true.”

The Doctor smiled.  “But now?”

“Oh, it didn’t take long for me to realize that my entire life with you was mental.  From living plastic, to gas ghosts, werewolves, farting aliens cosplaying humans and living things being turned into a child’s drawing.”  She looked up and him with a wry smile.  “If all that was true and I saw it for myself, then why _couldn’t_ I believe in the existence of Heaven and Hell, God and the Devil?”

“I always said you were brilliant,” he breathed with genuine affection.

“You called me jeopardly friendly and an ape.”

The Doctor’s smile was small, yet reverent.  “Would you like to meet him?” he queried curiously.  “Lucifer, I mean.”

Rose nodded slowly.  “I would.”  She then shook her head.  “But not right now.”  She inhaled deeply and looked toward the mountains.  “I think.  I-I think me and the kids should stay here for a little while first.  I want to get to know my husband’s home a little, and learn to love it as much as he did.”

“We always hated it,” he corrected quietly.

“Love and hate,” she mused.  “Aren’t they pretty much the same thing?”

“Yeah,” he croaked with a wince.  “Someone else told me that once.”  He looked to the fire.  “Someone who probably knew more about emotions and how to wear them much better than me.”

“She must’ve been something special,” Rose ventured warily.

“You could say that,” he answered with a sigh.  “Very _special_ indeed.”

Rose pulled her hand from his and used it to hook her hair behind her ear.  Her hand was held upward for a moment as she looked from the fire and toward the small row of young saplings that seemed to line the direction of the water running underneath the ground.  She narrowed her eyes into the distance to focus on the river flowing off in the distance.

“I think I might explore,” she said in a voice that suggested that she was talking to herself.  When she looked toward her two children, it became clear that she was talking toward them.  “How about it?  Do you want to put on our Converse and walk the planet that your father always spoke about when he told you kids your bedtime stories?”

“You mean the stories that didn’t include rampaging aliens and scary forests,” James queried with amusement.  “Mum.  Dad always saved the faery tales of Gallifrey for Liz.  I got the sci-fi channel from him.”

“Oh, I’m fairly sure that Gallifrey has every single fantastic tale your father spoke of,” she said with a smile.  “Terrifying or cute, it’s probably here.”

Liz hummed and curled herself around her mother’s arm.  “I think Dad’d approve.”  She looked toward her brother.  “Jamie?  You in?”

James thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels as he scanned the plain with deep brown eyes that held as much ancient depth as his father’s.  He smiled and nodded with approval.  “Yep,” he popped with a grin too wide to suggest that it wasn’t covering up his sorrow.  “Dad had a tale about a koala with six legs.”

“Flubble,” the Doctor suggested with a slight crack of interest in his voice.  “Not quite as cute and cuddly as the Koala that you’re familiar with, but there is a similarity there I suppose.”

“And you know where to find them,” James asked curiously.

The Doctor nodded.  “I’d be more than happy to play tour guide.”  His lips pursed and he swallowed thickly enough that his head bobbed.  “So long as we stay away from the citadel and the panopticon.”  He winced with guilt.  “The last time I was here – things might not have exactly gone … in a … favourable way…”

“Which is Doctor speak for I pissed some very important people off and now need to lay low until it all blows over,” Rose said with a roll in her eyes and a long suffering quality to her tone.

“It might,” the Doctor admitted with a cheeky grin.  “But that won’t stop us from enjoying everything else that this planet has to offer.”

Liz rolled her shoulders and slid her fingers into her jeans pockets.  She looked first to her brother, and then toward her mother as though seeking unspoken approval.  With a nod from both, she offered the Doctor a smile.  “Well then, old man.  Lead the way.”


	11. Piano Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose meets Lucifer ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had considered ending this fic with one last chapter of happy happy joy joy or something ... then I thought better of it.
> 
> I realized that I wasn't quite done with Lucifer.. I wanted to play with him a little bit more. Just a wee bit. 
> 
> So let's see where this new direction takes us, shall we? I do hope that you enjoy... I really do ... 
> 
> Not bored yet, right?

Lucifer’s long nimble fingers danced across the piano keys as he gently tapped out a haunting melody; his version of a song that had swayed through the charts for a time in 2014.  The lyrics were suggestable and could be interpreted in whichever way the listener wanted to, but he didn’t much care to analyse it.   Words were words and chords were chords.  If he could hit the notes and let the lyrics flow, he couldn’t care less about their meaning.  Whatever meaning the lyricist had meant for his song, Lucifer couldn’t be bothered working out.

Not tonight at any rate.

His version of the song was slow and somewhat melancholy.  It allowed him to close his eyes, lift his head, and howl out the words that seemed to strike a chord within him. 

“Take me to church,” he crooned without any visible emotion.  “”I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.  I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife.”

His eyes opened to a slit as he caught the scent of a woman who had dared take a seat on the bench beside him.  His chin remained high, but he let his eyes follow her movements as she reached up to place her tall glass of something quite obviously fruity on top of the piano beside his three empty tumblers.  His fingers paused on the keys as he slowly lowered his chin to regard her properly.

“Oh don’t stop,” she breathed with disappointment.  “I was really enjoying that song.”  She turned to him with a flick of her long and wavy chestnut hair and fluttered impossibly long lashes over deep whiskey-brown eyes.  “I’ve never heard it played quite like that before.”

Lucifer twisted in his seat and leaned away from her somewhat.  He leaned one arm along the lip of the piano keyboard, and then reached across himself to pick up one of the three glasses from the top of the instrument.  He tried to play suave as he drew the glass to his lips, and even gave her a somewhat slurred waggle in his brow.

“Oh,” she sang through pursed and glossy full lips as she shook her head and put her fingers on his glass.  “That might not be a good idea.”

He allowed her fingers to grip at the very top of his glass and didn’t bother to question just why she seemed so eager to take his drink from him.  Instead he merely raised a brow at her and tipped his head to one side.  “You have a problem with alcohol?”  He released a small chuckle.  “Teetotalling church-goer, are you?  Well, you’ve obviously wandered into the wrong town.”  He flicked one brow.  “Not to forget walked up to the wrong man.”

She hummed her own chuckle and shook her head.  “Oh it’s not that,” she purred gently as she took the glass from his hand and held it up to his face.  She tilted it lightly to show him the contents.  “I just figured you didn’t want to drink cigarette butts with your whiskey.”  Her smile shifted to something unsure and she tipped her head at him curiously.  “Unless, of course, you wanted it that way?  I’m really not sure how people here drink their alcohol.  I mean, each to their own, yeah?”

She handed him back the glass.  “Sorry.  I really shouldn’t have assumed.  Where I’m from people don’t drop cigarette butts into alcohol with the intent to drink it after.”  She shrugged and tipped the glass to him with an urging for him to take it.  “But here.  Who knows, right?  Perhaps you like your whiskey with the smoky aroma of tobacco ask.  Perhaps it’s the _in_ thing with the _Prime_ crowd.”  She made an expression of distaste and shook her head.  “But not my cup of tea, ta.”

Lucifer’s brows pinched together with slight annoyance as he took the glass from her and then flicked it to toss its contents on the carpet behind them.  “Thank you …I’m sorry, your name?”

“Oh,” she sang with her eyes lighting up and a light bounce in her seat.  “That’s right.”  She held out her hand.  “I’m Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Liz.”

“Liz,” he purred with a suave purr as he held out his hand in a request for her to place hers in his palm.  “I’m Lucifer.”

“Oh,” she giggled as she winked and took her glass from the top of the piano.  “I know who you are.”  She pursed her lips over the straw and drew back a small sip.  Her eyes glistened as she swallowed and then licked at her lip.  “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and let out a sharp huff.  “I wish I could tell you that it was all lies,” he said solemly as he dropped his eyes toward a passing and very scantily-clad waitress and flicked his fingers in a request for another drink.  “So are you here looking to make a deal, or to share my bed and crow to your friends that you slept with the Devil?”

Liz coughed on another sip of her drink.  “Oh.  Oh, no!  No no no no no.  No.  Absolutely no.  Absolutely and positively no with a capital N and a gigantic O.”

He slid his eyes to her and lifted a brow of curiosity.  “I’m honestly not sure if I should take offence to your vehemence against spending a romantic few hours with me, or be thankful because I’m not in the mood to make it any good for you.”

She shook her head quickly.  “I’d be more concerned about the fact that you even put the offer on the table,” she warned him with a conspiratorial whisper.  Her eyes flicked from side to side as though to ensure they weren’t being heard.  “Because if my brother heard that offer…”  Her eyes widened and she blew out a breath.  “Man.  Well.  He’d go pretty much psycho on you for it.  And then when he was through with you , then Mum might have a go, and then Dad … or…”  her brows pinched.  “Or is he my uncle?  Step Dad? Family friend?”

She tipped her head curiously at him.  “What do I call the clone of my father?  I mean once upon a time, they were both the same man.  And they both love my mum.  But.  But Dad’s gone now – gone nearly a year and a half – and while Mum’n him haven’t really gotten together yet, it’s pretty inevitable that it’s going to happen one day.”  She rubbed at her chin and looked absently across the club in thought.  “At least that’s what _he’s_ hopin’.  And me and Jamie, too, if I’m going to be honest.  Mum’s being a bit bullheaded about the whole thing, but we know it’s what she wants, too.”

She looked back to Lucifer with wide eyes of question.  “Well?  Do you know?”

His jaw gaped.  “Do you typically sprout off nonsensical garbage in a deliberate attempt to not be understood?”

Her expression fell, and she quickly fidgeted at the stem of her glass.  “I don’t really get out much,” she admitted quietly.  Her shoulders tipped up and she sipped her head low.  “And I certainly don’t often get the chance to be able to sit down and talk with handsome men.  At least,” she admitted timidly.  “At least not without Jamie standing sentinel behind me.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened and then narrowed at the suddenly very unconfident demeanour of the woman beside him.  Although she looked to be deep inside her twenties, she seemed to be carrying herself off more of an awkward teenager than a young woman.

“Tell me,” he questioned curiously as he finally allowed himself to look harder at his attractive companion.  He smiled toward the waitress as she handed him a drink with a wink and a kiss in the air, and then drew the lass toward his lips.  He looked over the back of the glass toward her.  “How old are you, Liz?”

“Well that’s a bit personal, don’t you think?” she asked sharply.  She waited until he looked appropriately chagrinned and then offered him a smile.  “I’m 67 years old, will be sixty eight in six months.”

Lucifer half-gagged, half-choked, and damn near drowned on a mouthful of whiskey at her answer.  His eyes were blown wide with disbelief as he wiped whiskey from his lapel.  “I’m sorry, did you say that you were in your sixties?”

“Yes,” she answered with wide eyes and a nod of her head.  “ _Late_ sixties, actually.”  Her wide eyes fell back to a more relaxed openness.  “Well, that’s age relative to humans, of course.  I know that would officially make me a senior citizen on this planet – and if you could believe it, I actually had a senior’s discount card back in the parallel world.”  She opened up her mouth and laughed a brilliant sound of glee.  “Noone would let me use it, mind.  They didn’t believe me.  But, yeah.  I’ve got some years on the old odemeter.”

Lucifer’s eyes were wide with disbelief, but his mind ticked with the information she was providing him with, and slowly he began to make sense of it.

“Now,” Liz said with a more sobered tone of voice.  “For my _species_ – I guess you can say – I’m still only an infant.  A young girl if you will.”  She tapped at her lip.  “Not real sure just what the Gallifreyan equivalent is just yet.  I never really thought to ask.  But Dad always told me that I wasn’t allowed to date until I was 200, and Jamie’s making damn sure that I stick to that rule.”  Her eyes widened again and she sifted her head around with thought.  “So.  From what I’ve heard from other dads is that they say their daughters can’t have boyfriends until they’re about 40.  So if I work it out using the mathematical equation of:  200 divided into-“

“Oh,” Lucifer cut in quickly with a wave of his hand.  “Don’t bother with the math.  Really.”

“No?” she queried with surprise.

“You’re a Time Lord, aren’t you?” he asked her in a rather flat tone.

She blinked.  She nodded.  She shook her head.  “Well.  Yes and No.  You’re half right, of course.  I’m the daughter of a Time Lord – or at least a half-human version of one – and a once human now Time Lady.  And because I’m a female, I’m technically a Time Lady myself…”

“I think I got it,” he interrupted with a rise of his hand.  He set his glass on the piano and pulled a package of cigarettes from the top.  He tapped the pack against his palm to eject a single stick.  “And I’m going to guess that your father is a Time Lord known as the Doctor.”

She nodded eagerly.  “That’s right.  Well.  The clone version of him anyway.  Although the fully Time Lord Doctor is working hard at trying to take the place of my dad, both with me and Jamie and with Mum – which is where my confusion to his title comes in.  He is.  He isn’t.  He might be.”

He shook his head with disbelief and amusement.  “You really do have quite the gob, don’t you?”

There was a shift in the air beside him, and another attractive woman took up place on the bench opposite to Lis.

“She does,” Rose Tyler agreed with a smile as she squared herself in front of the piano keys and let her hands hover over the top as though planning the best place to splay her fingers.  “And so you are very well aware, Lucifer Morningside, that gob of hers is, and only ever will be used for eating and for talking.”  She shot him a warning stare.  “So don’t be getting no ideas.”

Lucifer quickly rocked his head to look toward her, and gasped when he took in her full lips, square jaw and casually put together appearance.  For a moment his breath caught in his chest at her friendly, yet cautious expression.

…It he’d had three more glasses of whiskey, he may have been forgiven for believing she was the Detective.   He held himself short of remarking on the similarities between the two women and made do with forcing out a one word question.

“Rose?”

She didn’t look at him, instead focusing on the keys as she slowly began to play a song unfamiliar to anyone but herself and the Doctor.  

“He mentioned me, then?”

Lucifer settled his nerves somewhat by drawing back deeply on his cigarette.  He exhaled and watched as she focused on the sequence of keys underneath her fingers.

“To suggest he merely _mentioned_ you, Rose, is a gross understatement.”

She leaned forward and looked down the length of the keys as Liz tinkled the same tune played by her mother, only in the lowest register.  She offered her daughter a smile and then looked back to her own set of keys.  “If I was informed correctly,” she said quietly.  “Deals were made in my name.”

“Actually,” Lucifer began as he dropped the remains of his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass.  “Any and all deals were made in my name, with a vow of honour from the Doctor.  Your name’s involvement in the deal was…”  He chuckled.  “Well, it was the wager.  The pendulum of enticement for me to get what I want.”  He passed his eyes between the two sets of hands striking out a tune either side of him.  With a nod of his head, he settled his fingers on the keys and followed along with them. 

“Tell me, Rose,” he asked gently.  “Are you happy?”

“Moreso that you appear to be,” she answered somewhat sagely as her eyes focused on the movement of her fingers across the keys.  He felt the hitch in his breath more that she heard it.  “But yeah.  I’m in a good place I suppose.”

“Still in love with your Time Lord, then?”

Rose had to chuckle at that.  “I always will be,” she confirmed with a smile.  “No matter his face, his body, or whether he was the full or half Time Lord – I’m going to be in love with the old man.”  She laughed at a squeak from her daughter and the kissing sounds she made in response.

“I’m just not quite ready to be all that he wants me to be right now.”  Her smile faltered.  “I spent nearly seven decades as the devoted wife to a wonderful man who selflessly gave himself to me, no holds barred.”   She looked up to Lucifer.  “The Doctor – I mean the full Time Lord one – he’s not ready yet to completely open himself to me.  And until then, I will simply be his loyal and devoted companion.”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully and continued to play the keys in front of him.  “Perhaps he’s not ready because you don’t appear to be,” he offered thoughtfully.  “Ever think about that?”

Rose lifted her chin and laughed a deep and throaty laugh.  “Oh, I don’t have to think about it,” she answered hoarsely.  “That man doesn’t know how to give himself completely.  He’s so closed off…”

“Scared,” Lucifer corrected quietly.  “Scared so much of how deeply he loves you that he tries to run from it.”

“That’s ridiculous, and a very poor excuse if you ask me.”

Lucifer immediately stopped playing and twisted in his seat to face her.  His eyes were hard with annoyance.  “Do you have any idea about the man and the state he was in when we met – not once, but _twice_?”

Her mouth gaped and she shook her head.

“He walked in my club on that first night, all full of arrogance and a poorly put on air of self-righteous indignation to the ideas of love and pleasure.”  He inhaled deeply and cooled his voice.  “Until he saw an image that was the ghost of you.”  He passed his hand up and down in the air at her side.  “He saw a woman who reminded him of the one he lost, and the cracks in his carefully plated armour began to show.”

He turned back to the piano and looked at his hands as he settled his fingers back on the keys.  “How do you think I was able to tempt him to deal with the Devil, Rose?  Do you think he did it because he wasn’t desperately in love with you and knew he was nothing but a shell of a man without you?”

“I never really thought about it,” she admitted pitifully.

“No,” he barked.  “You women don’t, do you?   You see only what you want to see and refuse to see it for what it truly is – even when it’s lit up in neon signs in front of your face.”   He let out a long breath and blinked his eyes slowly.  Slowly he drew in another and held it before he spoke again in a voice low and almost reverent.  “When he came back to me the second night.  The Doctor.  He was unrecognizable against the man I’d dealt with earlier.  He was disheveled, distraught, angry at the world – at me – and the universe as a whole.”

“What had happened to him?” she asked in a tone that suggested she already knew.

He snorted a rueful laugh.  “He’d just had to say goodbye to you again, didn’t he?   He left you on a beach with his clone.  He came to me all piss and vinegar, accusation and sorrow.  His hearts were shattered, and he truly didn’t believe he’d be able to pick up all the pieces and go on.”

“But he did,” she offered with emotion in her voice.  “Like he always does.”

“No he didn’t,” he countered quietly.  “At least not the man I met.  He changed, and more than just his face and body, he changed into something completely different.  He became the exact opposite of the person he had spent hundreds of years carefully cultivating.  He broke his own vow – the promise he made to himself when he called himself _Doctor_.”

Rose blinked tears from her eyes and inhaled a wet sniff.  “How?  How do you even know this?  In your timeline it’s been only a few months….  It’s been centuries for him.”

Lucifer snorted.  He actually smirked.  “I’m Lucifer,” he clarified sternly.  “The Son of God.  The Devil.  A celestial being who can see beyond today…”

Liz shifted in toward Lucifer and looked across his chest toward her mother.  “It’s actually quite legendary, really.  I was reading some texts on the TARDIS from this time period about the fall of the Time Lord.”  She remained leaning forward, but raised her eyes to Lucifer, who looked down at her with an arched brow.  “Celestial being my butt.  Anyone who can read knows that.”

His own brow flicked and he let his eyes glow red with eternity burning deep inside them with the intent to give her a small fright.  He grinned cheekily when she squeaked and scrambled backward.

Rose swallowed hard.  Her voice was weak and broken.  “I – I didn’t realize,” she stammered.

“Love and broken hearts can certainly mess someone up,” Lucifer murmured with a curl in his lip.  “Losing love because of interfering and relentlessly selfish outside sources … Well … well, that can destroy even the strongest of men.”

“You sound like you’ve been there, yourself,” Rose noted empathetically.

His nose scrunched and his eyes flared as he drew in a rough breath through his nose.  His exhale was a rippling growl, which he silenced by snatching his whiskey glass from the piano top and draining the entire contents in a single swallow.

“I’m Satan,” he growled.  “I don’t fall in love – and especially not with a _human._ ”  He grunted with a terrifically curled lip when he felt both women stroke his arms in a supportive manner.  He shrugged away from them both.  “I’m above such whimsical fancies.  Why would I want to settle down with one woman when I can bed a new one every hour?”

“Because,” Rose offered sympathetically.  “Because everyone wants to love and be loved, Lucifer.  Even you.”

“And yet you don’t believe that your Time Lord is capable of loving and being loved?” he questioned sharply.  He continued before she could argue.  “If you’re so eager to assure me – the Dark Lord of Hell itself – that I am capable of being in love, then you’d be a hypocritical and blind fool to think that your Lord of Time isn’t capable of the same.”

She stared at him solidly, but didn’t speak.

“I can assure you of his affections, Rose Tyler.  I saw it for myself.”  He inhaled and looked up to the ceiling.  “I didn’t get it, mind.  Didn’t fancy myself a fool for love or anything that whimsical.”

“Until it happened to you,” she ventured with a small smile.

“I have only one heart,” he said sadly.  “And when it was cruelly ripped from inside my chest and then stomped on, well.  Well I got it, didn’t I?”  He slapped his palm on the front of the piano and growled.  “And fuck me if it isn’t the most searing pain I’ve ever felt – that I’ve ever even _inflicted_ on another soul.”  He turned his head to her and let it hang sideways as he looked to her.  He steadied his breathing.  “Your Time Lord has two hearts beating inside his chest.  By the sins of my father, don’t break them.”

Rose stared at him with an unreadable expression for a long moment.  Her eyes were locked on his, and her mind railed a mile a minute as she battled to accept what Lucifer was telling her.

After a long moment, she stood up and brushed one hand along her thigh as she held the other out toward Lucifer.  “Come with me,” she told him firmly.

He looked to her hand and then up to her face.  He made no move to take her hand.  “Where do you intend to take me,” he queried suspiciously.  “If it’s to my room, then let me assure you that while I may be a powerful force in this universe, I won’t bed the mate of a Time Lord.”

“You only wish,” she sang as she flicked her fingers to request his once more.  “I’ve got no interest in messin’ about with Heaven’s Lothario, so don’t you worry about that.”  She dipped to snatch his hand and tugged to pull him to a stand.   “But.  But I think that you need a break from here.  Take a vacation.  Bring your shattered heart along with you, and we’ll see if we can’t find some way of helping you put it back together.”

“And just what, exactly, do you have in mind then?”

On the other side of him, Liz was swaying side to side as she played a simple tune on the piano and sang underneath her breath.  She stopped singing a moment, but kept playing.  “I think Mum’s offering to take you on a bit of a vacay.”

“I’m already on vacation.  I live in Hell, remember?”

Liz chuckled.  “According to Mum on a good day, they’re both one in the same.”  She looked away from the keys and pushed herself up to a stand with both hands.  She hooked her long hair over her ear and gave him a wink as she sashayed behind him to stand beside her mother.  “So, not really a vacation after all, yeah?”

He looked to Liz, and then to Rose.  He tried to be nonchalant, but was too much hope and excitement in his eyes to be able to fully pull it off.  “You’re suggesting a trip in the TARDIS?”

“To say thank you,” Rose answered with a nod.  “You know, for … for giving me back what I’d lost.”

He shrugged.  “Well.  I did get something out of the deal as well, you know.”

She tugged him into a walk.  “Well.  If you don’t _want_ to…”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Lucifer shot back with a laugh.  “I’d be a fool to knock back an offer like that.”

Rose curled her hand around his and leaned into him as they walked through the club toward the exit.  “There’s just one thing you have to know before I let you across the threshold of my beautiful ship,” she warned lightly.

“Okay.  A rule, I expect,” he said with a shrug.  “What is it?”

“The pretty brunette is off-limits.  Don’t touch.  Don’t flirt.  And certainly don’t attempt to make any deals with her.”  She looked up at him and let her eyes sparkle with gold.  “Am I perfectly understood?”


	12. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose, Liz and Lucifer return to the TARDIS and find only one of them....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee bit of a filler before I can actually head off onto things more interesting.
> 
> I hate filler chapters ... I really do ... but I hope you don't mind them too much. :)

As he left the club accompanied by two beautiful women, Lucifer felt his shoulders lift somewhat.  The weight that had heavily pressed against his chest seemed to vanish completely as he stepped onto the street and was able to draw in a deep breath of the outside air.

It felt like eons since he’d been able to breathe in such a deep and cleansing breath, and he couldn’t help but split a grin and let out a sigh of pleasure at how incredible it felt to suddenly feel so free.   He felt the heat of the sun burning overhead and started to chuckle.  

“It feels like forever since I’ve felt the warm wash of the desert sun on my face.”

Liz eyed him up and down with a curl in her brow.  “And by the looks of you it has been forever,” she quipped with a shrug and a gesture of her hand toward him.  “And here I was thinkin’ that the Doctor’s skin was pasty-pale.”

Lucifer replied with the tiniest of chuckles, but he said nothing to actually answer her question.  The crease in his suit and the slick grease of his hair suggested that he’d been in the club – and likely at that piano – for at least a couple of days.

“Liz brings up a good question,” Rose noted with a wince as she shielded her eyes against the bright midday sun.   “How long has it been since you’ve left the club?”

“Long enough,” he answered with a husky tone that was on the opposite end of the spectrum to smooth and seductive.  He quickly cleared his throat and shifted his shoulders; the move settling the seat of his expensive, designer blue suit jacket down his back and across his shoulders.

“Thing with Casinos,” he began with a far more confident tone of voice.  “Especially those designed in the way that many of casinos here in Las Vegas, is that you can be quite easily fooled about what the actual time of day is, and how much time you’ve actually sat at one of their playful and happy little machines.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt,” Rose replied with a grin.  “The alcohol has nothing at all to do with it.”

“Surprisingly little, actually,” he agreed with a wink.  “Although it does loosen one up enough to maintain the confusion to the circadian rhythm that the additional oxygen and careful design of the venue intend.”

“God,” Liz breathed out along a facetious breath that perfectly complimented the roll of her eyes.  “It’s like listening to Dad go on, isn’t it, Mum?”

Rose chuckled, but Lucifer stilled.  He twisted slightly, locked his eyes on the near-naked form of a busty showgirl standing in a casino doorway, shuddered, and then looked toward Liz.

“One,” he began carefully.  “He’s not going to help you, so don’t bother asking for him…”

“Who,” Liz asked with arched brows of disbelief.  “Dad?”

“Yeah.  I mean: no,” he answered quickly.  His own brows then lifted.  “Well.  Not _your_ dad.  _My_ dad.  The one everyone seems to call or cry out for – and usually at moments that make it rather awkward.”

“That’d be something, yeah?” Rose said with a chuckle as she tugged at his sleeve to keep them walking toward the TARDIS.  “Your conquest of the evening begging to your dad, right when it gets good.”

“Yeah,” he drawled.  “Let’s not imagine that scenario, shall we?”  He snorted indignantly.  “It’s never happened and I dare say that it won’t.  I have very specific holds in place that ensure that no woman I am—“

“And what was number two,” Rose ground out hurriedly before he could finish his thought.

“I’m sorry,” he asked innocently.  “What was that?”  His innocence quickly shifted to facetious   I couldn’t hear you properly because I was actually speaking when you decided to quite rudely interrupt and over talk me.”

“Yeah, you might want to reconsider this pretense you’re trying to put out about you being more of a gentleman than I am a lady,” she countered with amusement.  “Especially given what you were leading toward in the presence of a _child_.“

“She’s sixty seven,” he barked incredulously.

“Barely a teenager by Gallifreyan standards,” she shot back with amusement.

“A _teenager_ who grew up on planet Earth, ergo, she is the product of her upbringing and the social environment surrounding her.”

Rose let up a laugh of honest amusement as she spun in place to walk backwards to address him face to face.  “Do you _really_ want to go there, Lucifer?”  She swirled her finger in the space in front of his chest.  “Because I have plenty of fodder for rebuttal.”

“Right,” he interrupted with a roll in his eyes.  “Point quite marvellously made thank you.”

Rose giggled as she spun on the ball of her foot and strode forward.  She led them toward a small alley way and skidded to a stop in front of a tall and orange coral structure against the wall.  A young man with dirty blonde hair, wild on the top and fringe, leaned back against it, his arms folded tight across his chest and his head down.  His legs were crossed at his ankles, and he tapped his toe impatiently on the damp bitumen.

“James?” Rose queried worriedly as she searched for the second time ship that had materialised only moments after hers.  “Where’s the Doctor?”

James lifted his head and inhaled a wet sniff through his nose.  It was clear that he was upset, although he battled to shield his hurt from his mother.

“Doesn’t matter,” he answered with a croak.  “Don’t worry about the old man.  It’s just us now.”

Rose shared a very brief look with an equally questioning Liz, and then looked back toward her son.  She moved forward quickly and held his elbows in her hands as she searched his face.  She cooed his name in a soft question when she saw his red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m okay, mum,” he assured her with a weak smile.  He lifted his eyes to Lucifer and very quickly school his expression into something a little more excitable.  His face split into a grin and he launched forward with his hand outstretched in greeting.

“You must be the guy that I’ve heard my parents talking about,” he began on a rush.  “Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer lifted a brow of curious analysis, but managed a tight smile as he took James’ hand in his to give a firm shake.  “Looks like you have me at a bit of a disadvantage.  You know my name, but I’ve got absolutely no idea at all who you are.”

James stretched an even wider grin across his cheeks.  This one was a smile of challenge.  “Wanna guess?” he questioned with a waggle in his brow.

Lucifer couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled inside his chest.  Whatever amusement this young lad was projecting, it was certainly contagious.  “You have the somewhat brattish arrogance of a Time Lord,” he began with amusement.  “The eyes of Rose Tyler here, and the wild an uncontrolled mane of the man called the Doctor.  Let me guess.  You’re Rassilon’s kid?”

“Smart arse,” James moaned with a roll in his eye.  It was an expression that quickly fell to suspicion.  “And just how do you know the name Rassilon, then?”

Lucifer shrugged and pulled his hand free of James’.  “One:  I’d much rather be a smart arse than a dumb arse.  So thank you.  And two: My father might’ve brought him up once or twice during rants about dealing with Time Lords and the realities of not giving enough respect to … oh you know … blah blah and more blah.”

James dipped his head slightly to scratch at the back of his head.  He looked toward Lucifer through one eye and spoke through a slightly pouted lip.  “Tend to tune out the old man, too, yeah?”

“Don’t we all?” Lucifer agreed with a wink.  He then looked toward the orange tree.  “I imagine that’s the TARDIS.”

“It’s _a_ TARDIS, yeah.”

Lucifer stepped forward and rubbed at his chin as he analysed the machine.  He was only able to hold back from actually touching it by folding his arms across his chest.  “The last time I saw this thing, it was in the shape of an old Police Box from London.”

“That would be the Doctor’s TARDIS,” James corrected with a shrug as he took up position beside Lucifer.  “This one’s Dad’s.  And.  And, well, Mum’s too of course.”

“I see,” Lucifer said quietly.  “My sympathies for your loss.”

“Yeah,” James breathed somewhat wetly.  “Ta for that.”

“If it makes you feel any better.  He didn’t end up in my part of the Universe,” Lucifer ventured with a wince at the absurdity of his remark and then a shrug to let the comment roll.  “So.  Enough of the small chat.  Where’s the old man, and when can I take flight like Rose Tyler and her delightful daughter Liz promised me.”

James snapped a look toward his mother.  “You warned ‘im off, yeah?  Do I need to do the speech, or is he good?”

“Adequately warned,” Rose answered.  “Now, he asked you a question, James.”

“Yeah,” he drawled with a rub at the back of his neck.  “Right.” 

He pressed his hands against the coral and stepped back as a line of light moved from top to bottom, and then split to line across the bottom and back up to form a pair of doors.  The doors opened with a hiss and a hum that was quickly drowned out by the sounds of revellers walking across the mouth of the alley way.

James looked with worry toward the opening of the alley, and then back to Lucifer.  He tipped his head to one side in a gesture toward the interior of the ship and smiled a weak, yet welcoming grin.  “All aboard,” he said with a smirk.  “Welcome to TARDIS two-point-oh.  Do mind your step as you step from one dimension to another.”

“Now who’s being the smart arse,” Lucifer droned somewhat sardonically as he followed behind James to enter the time ship’s massive control room.   He couldn’t help the exhalation of awe that escaped his lungs.  “Incredible.”

Rose followed behind him and although she wore a smile, it was clear that she was somewhat uneasy.  Lucifer shifted his eyes from the majesty in front of him to turn toward her.

“If you’re worried about me being on board your ship-“ He stopped talking when she raised her hand to ask him to quiet down.

“James,” she breathed with warning in her tone toward her son.  “Where is he?”

“He meaning _who_?” James questioned with a bit of sharpness to his tone.  “Can’t think of anyone really worth wondering about that isn’t already here.”

“Wow,” Liz breathed out with surprise and perhaps a little awe.  “Just what’d the old man do to piss you off so much?”  She backed off at an irate glare from her brother and held up both hands in surrender.  “Hey.  Just askin’ yeah.”

Rose strode a few steps toward her youngest child.  “And I’m askin’, too.  Where is the Doctor, and why did he leave you here alone?”

James pressed both hands into the edge of the console and leaned down heavily.  His tall and lanky stature seemed almost non-existent haloed by the bright lights of the rotor column and when he sighed it was as though he was phasing into the vortex of time.

The image made Lucifer gasp with awe, and he immediately decided that he was going to find a way to utilize this effect in the future.   Before he could ask, though, he felt the air rush almost painfully from his lungs by a defeated series of words spoken by the youngest member of the TARDIS flight team.

“He’s gone, Mum.  And he’s not ever coming back.”

All three of them belched out the same word in response.   It was the standard word that showed their exclamation of surprise to the news given, but it was spoken in three very different manners, which gave young James three very differently expressed questions …

…none of which he really wanted to answer.

“Mum,” he breathed out with apology.  “I don’t know if it was something that I did, said, or what.”  He lifted his head to look toward his mother with an expression of utter defeat.  “But he got so mad.  Just out of the blue.  No warning at all.  Nothing to suggest I was teetering on the edge of the Oncoming Storm or nothing.”

Rose had Lucifer flanked to her left as she practically fell on the console to the left of her son.  “What happened, James?”

His grip tightened on the console’s edge.  “I don’t know,” he answered through his teeth.  “One sec we were chatting about the correct way to install the Helmic regulator to ensure the most successful connectivity with …”

“Tech talkin’,” Liz interrupted with a sigh and a smile.  “You and ‘im in a nutshell.”

“You’d think it, yeah?” he shot back with a lift in the inflection of the last word to make it a definite question.  “Me and Him and me and Dad.  Always good when talkin’ tech and metaphors for life.”

Rose looked toward Lucifer with a crease in her brow and a slight wince in her eye.  “They could be rowing like they’d be ready to set missile coordinates against each other.  But put them together in a lab or the bowels of this thing to talk repairs, and they’re back to the best of mates in a heartsbeat.”

James’s fists curled tighter and he shifted slightly to slam them down atop the console.  Quietly he muttered an apology to the ship. Outwardly he growled a sound of annoyed confusion.  “That’s why I don’t get it!”  He pointed to the rotor.  “We weren’t even rowing, mum.  We were joking about after hooking up the new converter, and then the whole console lit up, spat some sparks, and then started to shake.” 

He pushed himself off the console and began to pace.  One hand gripped tight at his hair, and the other slammed down hard as a fist into his pocket.  “TARDIS was freaking out, Mum.  She was screamin’ in my head and yellin’ at the Doctor.”  He spun and looked at his mother with wild eyes.  “Then with no warning, he tells me to get out of his TARDIS.”

Rose narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  “He did what?”

“Kicked me out!” he confirmed as he threw up his arms and then let them fall with a slap to his thighs.  “Told me that he was sick of the domestics, sick of pretending to be a family man.”  He gulped back thickly.  There was obvious hurt in his voice.  “So he told me to get out and never look for him again.”

Liz gasped a loud whimper and shook her head.

Lucifer’s face tightened with annoyance and disbelief.

Rose’s face creased with anger.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Lucifer slowly turned his head to offer her a look of absolute fury that he had no doubt mirrored her won.  “And then, when you’re done.  Send him my way.”

“He’s a Time Lord,” she growled.  “You don’t have jurisdiction.”

“Try me,” he seethed angrily.  “This idiot’s doing everything he can to back out of his own side of our damn deal, and I’m getting real tired of the game.”  He looked back toward the time rotor and let his eyes sizzle red into the amber lighting.  “His soul is all mine.”

Rose leaned forward and flicked at a pair of switches on the console top.  “Vacation’s gonna have to wait, Lucifer,” she said with no apology, but a lot of aggression.  “Hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m still riding shotgun,” he said with a smirk.  The smirk faltered with the building whine of the TARDIS engines from the central column.  He lowered his tone and spoke with only his breath.  “You don’t believe him, do you?”

“Who?  My son?”

Lucifer twisted his head quickly to look toward her.  “No.  Not him.  I can already see that your lad is as habitually honest as I am.”  He blew out a breath and then inhaled deep.  “I mean the Doctor.  What he told your son?”

“Not a word of it,” she growled darkly as she twisted a dial and lifted her eyes to the monitor.  “That bloody self-sacrificing martyr has obviously found some trouble and is finding the most painful way possible to keep us out of it.”  She dropped her gaze to pull back a lever and then flick another switch.  “Tell me the most painful mistruth he can find to make sure I sod off and leave him be.  Probably get himself killed while he’s at it.”

Lucifer hummed and licked at his lip.  “And, despite this obvious warning, you’re going to just – what – ignore it completely?”

“Yep.”  She lifted her eyed to his and let them flash an angry amber colour that actually made the Devil himself take a startled step backwards.  “Because if anyone in this universe has first dibs on killing him – it’s me.”

His eyes were wide and he actually smiled as he looked sideways at her and nodded his head.  He held up his hands in understanding.  “You know.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were serious.”

She snorted and shook her head.  “Who says I’m not?”

Lucifer looked up toward the two adult-sized-teenagers who had taken up positions further around the console and were silently making their own adjustments to the flight plan.  “Uh?”

They basically ignored his question. 

“Locked onto the last known signal from the Doctor’s TARDIS,” Liz called to her mother.  “TARDIS sent out a final ping into the vortex approximately two hours ago – relative time.  Materialization coordinates have been adjusted, and we should be there shortly.”

“Sooner than you think,” James sang out.  “We’ve exited the vortex and are readying to materialize on Eradulian-prime in the nevedermine system.”

“What?” Liz called out.  “Why would we be materializing there?  It’s a hostile area full of transients and exiled travellers.  Noone in their right mind would come here unless they had some kind of death wish going.”

The room around them let out a high-pitched whine and then shuddered all around them.  The Cloisters sounded from the cloister room below them as the entire console room shifted from a bright amber lighting into a deep mauve hue.

Rose’s eyes widened as the four monitors spread across the command room flashed on.  Each of them displaying a singular motif – and one that only one person in the command deck knew.

It was Lucifer’s voice that spoke the name, and it was done along a fierce growl.  “Rassilon.”


	13. Rassilon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets up with the Time Lord who he once revered .. who is now in line to be his greatest foe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to believe that Rassilon would stand back and stay all quiet after being exiled by the Doctor in Hell Bent ... He was a fearsome warrior and a man revered by the Time Lords of Gallifrey...
> 
> ... and he was a downright nasty piece of work if someone pissed him off...
> 
> I hope you enjoy...

It was with very stereotypical roughness by very stereotypical thugs that the Doctor was led from his TARDIS and down along the – also very stereotypical – damp, filthy and rusted out metal corridor.  When he wasn’t being rudely jostled and pushed to walk faster, and then being yanked backward for walking too quickly, the Doctor took stock of his current predicament.

It was immediately obvious that he was in a ship or sorts.  The slightly smaller than normal corridors and the various markings and decals scattered throughout to indicate where the various _important_ sections of the craft were pretty much confirmed it.  Those decals and their language also confirmed to the Doctor that he was being led through some rather decrepit corridors of an Oyterran ship. Circa year 2379-5-Alpha if he wasn’t mistaken – which was unlikely given that he was absolutely brilliant in this regard.

He let the hum of the ships systems massage lightly at his feet as his captors paused to wait at the doorway of an elevator.  He used that hum to try to analyze just whether or not this ship was on the ground or floating somewhat helplessly in space.  He truthfully hoped that it was the former, as the general condition of the ship suggested that it wasn’t exactly air-worthy.  The last worry he wanted to have on his mind right now was whether this gigantic aircraft was on a collision course with an innocent and unsuspecting planet or not.

He drew in a breath and held it inside his chest as he wriggled his toes inside his boots and then let them splay and settle heavily on the floor.   He could feel it you know; the movement of the ground beneath his feet.  He could feel the shift of both space and time that surrounded him.  He could sense the most imperceptible movement underneath his feet; movement that wasn’t linear as he would have expected on a ship in flight across the universe.  This movement was more circular; an arcing movement that would indicate that the ground beneath his feet was rotating a movement around its own axis.

Fantastic.  He was on a planet.  This would make an escape much easier than it would if this ship was floating in space.

Now.  If only he could accurately determine just what planet he was on, then he’d be able to determine whether or not he had any potential allies that might assist in a swift escape.   Perhaps some revolutionaries, resisting against a tyrannical regime?   Oh, how brilliant that would be.  It had been a while since he had joined a small, but strong band of resisters revolting against a militarian command.

He was almost excited by the prospect.  Could he be so lucky?

There was a painful jut of the muzzle of a large weapon against his shoulder blade to shove him into the tiny elevator.  He stumbled gracelessly forward and managed to hold off colliding with the back of the elevator by the chest of a man who was already _inside_ the damn thing.  He winced with displeasure and disgust as his nose, and then his lips pressed against the bare chest splattered with sporadically placed tufts of thick, course, curly, sweaty hair.

It was only because of many years of suppressing his most reactive behaviours that he was able to immediately back off _without_ betraying his calm exterior.  Internally, he was retching in disgust.  Outwardly, he mumbled an apology and petted the man’s chest with his fingers and turned around to face the door – and the three captors who loomed tall and high over him.

“So,” he began with a long drawl after a lazy exhale through his lips.  “Nice day for a kidnapping, isn’t it?”

The mouth of the rather gigantic humanoid alien – he assumed to be a Neblioter from the vasloaclite system – parted slowly, dry and sticky skin pulling at dry and sticky skin, to finally split open to reveal a quivering mass of writing tentacles that were a slimy glistening green colour.  The Tentacles slapped up, and then down, and then pulled back sharply to disappear back inside his mouth.

Definitely Neblioter, then.  Very unpleasant species.  Bounty-hunters for the most part.  Which meant that this was a definite abduction attempt by a non Gallifreyan species using High-Gallifreyan technology to recall a TT-Capsule.

Of course, he’d all but already figured that much out when his TARDIS started to chime out in terror and began screaming into his mind.  It hadn’t been a simple recall protocol that had taken control of his TARDIS systems.  This was a deliberate and almost rustic-rudimentary recall program stolen from the annals of the ancient Gallifreyan Capsule Protocols; commands that were warped and only recognizable to Time Lords who had worked to put in failsaves against any and all return protocols on his own ship.

It was the reason he knew to kick out the young lad he was willing to call his son.  Whoever was after him would likely take pleasure from knowing that he had a _family_ (of sorts), and that to destroy them would ultimately obliterate him in the most sensational way.   There would be no way he’d put them all through that.  He’d much rather break all of their hearts and have them hate him for eternity than to risk their safety for a single moment against a rival Time Lord.

And he knew without a doubt that he was being manhandled and dragged toward a Time Lord.

There was no way to think otherwise.  Such intimate knowledge of the TARDIS ships was a definite giveaway.  But the lack of ability to use the most technologically advanced means to find him meant that the person looking for him was a Time Lord that was no longer affiliated with Gallifrey…

…At least not affiliated with anyone he might actually like…  Which, if he was being completely honest, was a rather short list of people; a list that grew shorter by the day.

It did leave him a rather intriguing question of just who it might be, then.  It wasn’t the Master – or _Missy_ as he was calling himself – herself? – now.  No.  His old friend knew _exactly_ how to find him, and did so in a manner most ostentatious.  Hired hands abducting him quietly was a little beneath old Koschei.

Rani?  Oh, he hadn’t heard from her in a long while.  Perhaps?  No.  Not her style, either.   Oh, she liked her hired goons, don’t think for a moment that she despised getting her hands dirty with the s _mall stuff_ , but she did like to reel in the _bigger_ fish by herself.

The resurrection of Gallifrey really did give rise to an extensive list of Time Lords and Ladies who really didn’t like him all that much.  But he couldn’t possibly think of just which one of them would actually be bothered enough to actually try and do anything about their hatred toward him.

…An interesting conundrum indeed.   Time to seek answers and hopefully create a bit of a game plan.

“One language I’ve never quite mastered is Nebliorer,” the Doctor muttered to himself as he let his tongue slap a little against his lip and roof of his mouth.  “It’s quite obviously due to the lack of separation in my tongue.  No tentacles, you see.  Just one big, flat, muscle.   Though I would expect that if I did have the necessary _equipment_ that I’d have the language down in no time.”  He tapped at his temple as though to point out visually just how clever he was, but was quickly cut off from finishing his thought by a bellow from one of his captors as he brought the butt of his weapon down on his right shoulder.

“You be quiet you will,” his captor demanded in a very-broken attempt to speak his language.

The Doctor winced enough that he watched his captors through only one eye.  He counted down the moment until the flaring pain in his shoulder began to wane, and then straightened up enough to stand tall.  Even though tall for his people’s standards, he was still a goof foot or two shorter than even the shortest of captors.

He wouldn’t let that little fact deter him, though.  The Doctor had dealt with far uglier, larger, tougher and more weaponized opponents than these guys.  He could certainly hold his own this time around.

“I guess you aren’t going to fill me in on just who employed your group of hired hoons to bring me in,” he ventured more toward himself than to anyone else in the lift.

“Find out in time, Lord of Space,” the one who was obviously in charge slurred in a quivering series of sounds around a mouth full of tentacles.

“That would be Lord of _Time_ ,” the Doctor corrected indignantly.  “Or Time Lord as we are commonly described.”

“Filth,” his captor corrected with a wet hiss that seemed to tickle at the air with his tentacles.  “Is common name you have.”

“Unless we’re paying you, right?” He droned with obvious displeasure.  “Then we’re okay as long as we can afford your price, which I imagine is considerably high.”

“Shut mouth,” his captor growled.  He shoved his gun against the Doctor’s side to force him from the elevator and into the corridor.  “With you, we finish.”

“Finish indeed,” the Doctor said with a disinterested sigh.   Oh, he wasn’t entirely disinterested, despite the way in which he walked and occasionally huffed with utter boredom.  He was carefully mapping out the corridors inside his quite magnificent mind.  He managed to pinpoint approximately four easily accessible vantage points of escape.

He could easily access and utilize them now and make a damn decent escape out into what he hoped were forests that offered enough cover for him to hide and give him time to figure out a way to get the TARDIS back.   But, the curiosity of just who was looking for him was just a little too great for him to consider all that right now.

“So.  I take it I’m a condemned man, then,” he ventured as he flicked open his jacket to slip his hands deep inside his trouser pockets.

“Quiet I said,” his captor growled as he levered another strike of his gun against the Doctor’s back.

A deep chuckle rumbled from beyond a rapidly approaching doorway.

“Oh, I dare say that you’ll have little luck in keeping _him_ quiet.”

The Doctor quickly lifted his head to the sound of a voice far too familiar to leave the question of just who wanted him unanswered.  His mouth gaped slightly as the man strode into the doorway and stood tall, with a haughty and regal air…

…Still wearing the ostentatious velvet crimson robe and golden mantle of the Lords of Prydon that he’d been wearing on the day that the Doctor had stood against him with a demand to get off his planet.

“Rassilon,” the Doctor growled with distaste.

“Doctor,” Rassilon replied with a lift of boredom in his eyes and a tired sound to his voice.  “I wish I could say that it was a pleasure to see you…”

“Well,” he countered with a sneer.  “You invited me here.  How could I possibly refuse?”

“Indeed,” Rassilon droned sordidly as he stepped back into the room with a wave of his hand intended to be a demand for the Doctor to follow. 

For a moment, the Doctor stood still and refused to walk behind a man who didn’t deserve to be followed by anyone – much less himself – but a hard shove into his back had him stumble forward.  He fell with his shoulder against the doorframe and then tumbled to a knee in front of Rassilon as the former Lord President turned around.

Rassilon smirked with pleasure at the sight of the Doctor on his knee before him.  “Now _this_ ,” he demanded on a booming voice.  “ _This_ is how you should have addressed me back on Gallifrey.”

The Doctor attempted to rise to his feet, but was held to this penitent position when one of his captors stomped his booted foot onto the Doctor’s shoulder.  He winced with pain and frustration.

“I don’t know how you think you deserve it,” he shot back in reply with a gruff tone of voice and a hiss as his breath sailed through his teeth.  “Not after what you did to Gallifrey.”

“What I did _for_ Gallifrey,” Rassilon corrected sharply.  He curled his hand into a fist and lifted his chin to speak with authority toward an imaginary gathered mass.  “I pulled our planet from desolation and despair and created a thriving society that was revered across the universe.  I gave our people the ability to become semi-immortal and powerful beings able to travel across all time and space.  To watch over the Universe and wield the powers of knowledge and Time –“

“Oh you created a society of anally retentive fools,” the Doctor interrupted sharply.  “Men who were, and always will be, cowards and thieves.”  He snorted.  “We were never revered.  We were hated.  Hated across all time and space and thought of as nothing more than judgmental, simpering fools.”

Rassilon’s eyes flashed with anger and he glared down at the Doctor.  “How dare you denigrate your own people like that.  You should be thankful to be part of our society; to be named as Lord of Time despite the reputations of your chapterhouse and your simpering fool cousins.”

The Doctor let out a small derisive chuckle.  “If that was meant to offend me in any way…”

“That was meant to show you that you – Lord Doctor – should be thankful of everything I have done for you.”

At this, the Doctor spat out a laugh of utter contempt.  “Thankful?  To _you_?” he barked incredulously.  “Rassilon: The man who brought a war to Gallifrey that could not be won…”

“And yet we were victorious,” Rassilon corrected calmly and with a small smile in place.

“You call that _winning_?” he snapped in reply.  “Noone _won_ that war, Rassilon.  Not you, not me, not Gallifrey, not the Daleks, and certainly not the universe.”  He tried to stand, and was held down by that damned boot upon his shoulder.  She shot up a glare, and then levered the look toward Rassilon.

“Have you ever considered the casualties of that war?” he asked gruffly.  “How many people – how many _innocent_ people were killed and their planets destroyed because of the Time War?”

Rassilon waved a hand dismissively.  “Collateral damage,” he countered with a huff.  “To be expected when a war in the name of the Universe is waged between two powerful peoples.”  He spun, his robe swirling with the turn, and flopped into an elaborate chair crudely designed as a throne.  “With their demise, Gallifrey rose taller.”

“Gallifrey never rose,” the Doctor corrected with a growl.  “As the planets of Kasterborous, and the surrounding systems fell in the war, Gallifrey grew weaker against the Dalek attack.  Gallifrey fell, Rassilon.  It fell hard, and there was no way that you or anyone else at Arcadia could have saved her.”

“And yet…”

“If I hadn’t acted in the way that I did,” the Doctor continued on a quiet voice of warning.  “If I hadn’t locked Gallifrey away in a pocket parallel, none of you would have survived.  Gallifrey would have burned and the children of time would be gone.”

Rassilon rubbed at his chin.  “Except, I imagine, for you.”  He tilted his head to one side.  “You made yourself believe, for the longest time, that you killed Gallifrey.  You let yourself believe that you had burned our planet, all her children, and committed the most heinous of genocides – against your own people.”  He leaned forward and smirked a wrinkled, sneering grin.  “How many centuries did you travel the universe with the belief that you had killed us all, Doctor?  Why did you even do that to yourself?”  His head tipped to one side.  “You were the saviour of Gallifrey, of the gateway to Time, and ultimately to the entire universe, yet you let yourself believe you were a killer.”

He snorted.  “To what end?”

The Doctor’s glare softened to confusion of his own.  “I don’t have an answer to that,” he admitted honestly along a quiet voice.

“I do,” Rassilon offered.  He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees.  “I have that answer, Lord Doctor.  Would you like to hear it?”

“Probably not,” he answered back with an irritated expression on his face.  “Not that I think it matters, because you’ll tell me anyway.”

Rassilon sat up with a laugh.  “Oh yes.  Indeed I will.”  He stood up from the chair and took a stride toward the Doctor.  He made a dramatic show of flicking open one side of his robe and crouched down to bring himself face to face with the Doctor.  “You made yourself believe yourself a killer of your own people… Because you’re an idiot.”  He shot back up to a stand.  “There’s no other reasonable nor rational explanation for it.  Only a damn fool would save his entire planet from destruction and then convince himself and future regenerations that he was its destroyer.  I quite frankly find it an embarrassment that the fate of Gallifrey was decided by your pitiful hand-“

“Pitiful it may be,” the Doctor growled.  “But it’s obviously better than yours.  You and your pathetic, snivelling cretans on council were completely useless to come to Gallifrey’s defense.  You brought to our home an unwinnable war and chose to sacrifice yourselves in fear…”

“We would have been elevated as Gods,” Rassilon corrected darkly.  “We would be rid of these awkward and clumsy bodies and become immortal spirits…”

“To look upon what?” the Doctor growled.  “Not the universe, because there wouldn’t be a universe left to exist in.  Spirits of absolutely nothing.”  He rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Which isn’t really that much different to how you and the council were before the war, really.”

“Show a little respect,” Rassilon growled with unbridled aggression.  “You’re here, and not buried at Trenzalore because of me; because of the council that you continue to disparage so disrespectfully.”  He flicked his robe to drop into a crouch again.  “Regenerations have never been a right of Gallifrey.  They are a privilege given to you by the Council of Lords.  This right was given to you twice, Doctor.  Never before has a Time Lord been given more than one regeneration package.”   His eyes shifted between the Doctor’s eyes.  “You should have died that day on Trenzalore, Doctor.   Old age should have taken you and you should be nothing but a rotten corpse.  But instead.  Instead you were gifted with more life than any other Gallifreyan has ever had.”

The Doctor smirked.  “Lucky me, then.”

“No,” Rassilon corrected with a haunting smile.  “I would say that I’m the lucky one.”

The Doctor had a fairly decent feeling that he knew exactly where this was headed.  Rassilon wasn’t the first, and he doubted that he’d even be the last Time Lord to get greedy and want to steal regenerations from him.

…Frankly, he was tiring of the game.

“Let me guess,” he questioned with a cheeky whisper.  “You want to steal my remaining regenerations, right?”  He lifted his hands – wrists up – toward Rassilon’s chin.  “You want me to just give you an eager and reverent smile toward my deity and offer up my lives as a sacrifice to you?”

Rassilon’s brows pinched together.  “Well.  You just took the fun out of it, didn’t you?”

“Oh,” the Doctor said with a laugh.  “You aren’t the first to try to take them.”

“Perhaps not,” he said with a shrug.  “But I’ll certainly be the last.”

“Of that, I am in doubt.”

“I’m not,” Rassilon breathed as he leaned forward to speak against the Doctor’s ear.  “Because you won’t have any left for anyone to take.”

The Doctor lifted his head to speak against Rassilon’s ear.  “Go ahead and try.”

He chuckled and lifted his eyes to the Doctor’s captors.  “Oh.  I fully intend to.”  He rose and pointed down at the Doctor.  “Take him to the chambers.  Let’s have some fun with this idiot before I take everything from him.”  He looked down to the Doctor and smirked dangerously.  “You tried to take it all from me, Doctor.  Now it’s your turn.”


	14. His True Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan comes out to play

The landscape that greeted the four travellers as they stepped out of the TARDIS was one that was dusty, barren of any native flora, and oppressive in its searing heat.  Liz was the first to comment with a yelp and a whimper.

“My God,” she caterwauled toward her mother.  “It’s like I just opened the oven door!”

James snickered against her ear as he strode past her.  “Living here might save the need to shave your legs, right, Sis?”

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a dark scowl.  “And what do you mean by that?”

“Well,” he purred as he slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.  HE grinned cheekily as he slid the glasses onto his face.  “The heat would burn it all of now, wouldn’t it?  I mean the hair.”

“Oh,” she scoffed in reply.  Her following comment was made in a voice so facetious, that it practically dribbled off her lips and into the dirt below.  “You should really think about taking up a career in comedy.  Funny man, you are.”

Lucifer practically purred as he exited the TARDIS.  The searing heat that wanted to ignite the outfits of everyone in the party didn’t seem to bother him at all.  He didn’t bother to remove his designer wool and cashmere blend suit jacket.  In fact, he merely popped free one button and swished the bottom of it to one side to give his hand access to his trouser pockets. 

“Not _this_ is more like it,” he cheered.  “Nothing like a warm day in the desert to recharge the old batteries.”

Rose chuckled at his side as she slid her jacket from her shoulders and haphazardly tossed it back in through the doors of the TARDIS.  “I was going to question whether or not you were Australian – given your obvious propensity to the heat – then I remembered…”  she gestured toward him with a wave of her hand.  “You’re the Devil.  This must be just like home to you.”

He shrugged.  “No.  Not really.  The legends of eternal fires and hot lava as the general landscape of Hell are greatly over exaggerated.”  He swept his hand forward with invitation for her to lead the way.  “Granted, there are eternal flames that do keep the landscape continually coated in a fine layer of ash much like snow in the winter – for the most part, though, it’s just dank and dreary.”

Liz snickered.  “I kind’ve have this image of everyone bursting into flame just by walking across the street.”

James hummed thoughtfully.  “Nah, that only happens on Deroesiah Beta.  Fortunately the inhabitants have adapted to the atmosphere and landscape of the planet.”  He grinned excitedly and turned toward Rose and Lucifer with thrill in his wild eyes.  He brought his hands up to his face to surround his cheeks.  “They’re walking skeletons surrounded by flames.  Like total Ghost Rider.  Brilliant.”

Lucifer’s brows lifted into high arches above his eyes.  “Now that is an image that might actually give me a fright.”  He kept his plastered on look of surprise as he dipped his face toward Rose’s.  “Me!  The Devil.  Could you imagine?”

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “You’re an arse.”   She huffed at his laughed response and walked ahead of the group toward what looked to be a bustling market place in the distance.

“Jamie,” she called out over her shoulder.  “My walking Wikipedia, tell me where we are.”

“Well,” he called out with a drawl along the word that told them all he was carefully relying on his memory recall to answer her question.  “This is Eradulian-Prime.  It’s a central planet in the Nevedermine system.”

“Which,” Liz chirped with a grin.  “Is the actual definition of the worst place to land in the Universe.”

Rose stopped walking.  It was clear in the seat of her shoulders and the dip of her head that she was wincing.  Her head then rocked side to side and she let out a long sigh.  “How bad are we talking?”

“It’s on Dad’s top five list of places to never ever ever go,” James answered.  “And you know how he felt about saying never ever,yeah?”

“Brilliant,” Rose huffed.  She turned and slouched to one side as she looked upon her children.  “I really want to tell the two of you to wait in the TARDIS…”

“But we aren’t going to listen,” Liz cut in with a grin far too like her father’s.  “So don’t waste your breath.”

James inhaled deep.  “Well.  As long as we don’t start to cause trouble, we should be okay.  This planet might be full of the worst kinds of people from across the universe, but they tend to keep to themselves.”  He bit at his lip.  “Kind’ve like a max-security prison, really.  All of them are vagrants and vicious criminals, but they know the next bloke is more dangerous than them.  So why bother stirrin’ the pot and getting into other people’s business?”

“So this is the nexus of crime?” Rose asked curiously.

“You could say that,” James answered with a shrug.  “Trafficking of all sorts.  Drugs.  Weapons.  Technology…”

“Lions and tigers and bears – Oh My!” Liz finished for him.  She then looked toward Lucifer.  “These kinds of people should be right up your alley, then?  Walk through as Satan, terrify them all.”

Lucifer pursed his lips and shook his head.  “My legend and power really only extends across the Human-Race, Elizabeth…”

“Call me Liz,” she purred with a smile.

James growled.  “Call her Elizabeth,” he corrected darkly.  He looked toward his sister.  “133 more years,” he stated sharply.

“Oh come on,” she whined.  “Are you seriously going to make me live up to that?  That’s not fair!”

“You bet I am, and the more you whine, the longer I’m going to make it.  Ten years for every complaint.”

“I hate you,” she growled.

“143,” he shot back.

“You can’t…”

“153.”

“But!”

“163.  Keep going Liz, I can keep counting.”

“Anyhow,” Lucifer sang to get the attention back on him.  His eyes were wide with shock as he looked between the battling siblings.  He let the flare in his eyes pass when he was sure he had their attention.  “I’m really not going to be all that much help to you in this situation.  My power is great, but it mainly extends across the human race.  Unless I’ve specifically dealt with them, I’ve got no power against any other species.”  He huffed.  “Most of my power comes from the fear of who and what I represent.”  He looked back to Rose.  “A bit like your perception filter, I’d imagine.”

“Immortal, though, right?”

He nodded quickly, his brows creasing in the centre.  “Oh yes.  Of course.  I do have that.”  He held up his finger into her face.  “But I still feel pain, so don’t even think about using me as a bullet-proof shield.”

Rose winked.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

James smirked.  “How about if I told you that a colony of Humans landed on this planet over a century ago and now represent about sixty-percent of the population?”  He looked toward his mother.  “And.  Well.  We all know how eager Humans are to spread the word about their lord and saviour, amiright?”

Rose chuckled and nodded her head.

Lucifer grinned and rubbed his hands together.  “Well then.  You’re speaking _my_ language, there Jim, my boy!”

“James,” he corrected with a distasteful expression.  “My name is James.  Not Jim.  Not Jimbo.  Not Jamie…”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Shut up, Liz.”

Liz tipped her head from side to side and repeated her brother’s words with a petulant and juvenile whine in her voice.  She straightened up and grinned when Lucifer laughed at their antics.

“You are both the most fully grown pair of children I’ve ever met,” he declared with a shake in his head.  He looked toward Rose.  “How do you put up with sixty-year-old children.”

She shrugged.  “I blame their father.  Refused to see either of ‘em grow up, he did.  Babied them right up till the day he died.”

Lucifer hummed and looked toward the market place, which they were rather swiftly approaching.  “So,” he called out with a clap of his hands.  “How do you lot propose that we find our wayward Time Lord and apply punishments very appropriate to the asinine bullshit he just pulled off?”  He smirked.  “And don’t hold back on terms of punishment on my account.  I’m pretty open to agreeing with any plans, _Hell_ , I’m more than willing to not only make suggestions, but to help you all apply them.”

Rose snorted.  “Don’t be surprised if I take you up on the offer.”  She kept her voice as low as the seat of her chin as she looked toward an ochre-coloured mud-bricked kiosk stand only a few metres away.  “Jamie, sweetheart?  What chance do you have of us trying to get information by traditionally respectable means?”

“The term _respectable_ is kind’ve subjective relative to the society you’re in, Mum,” he answered with a shrug.  “And so what this lot consider _respectable_ is not asking any questions at all.”

“Fantastic,” she muttered dryly.

“So, be prepared to go all BAMF if you want answers,” he offered.  “But at the same time, be prepared for a face full of really dangerous weaponry, ‘cause that’s what answer you’ll get.”

“Great,” she moaned.

Lucifer kissed at the air.  “Well.  If you really don’t mind me giving it a shot,” he offered.  “I have some rather unique methods that seem far less invasive than they truly are.”  He gestured toward a man standing at the wall of a small clay shop under the shade of a wind-torn faded blue awning.  “This one reeks of my Father’s creation.  Can I assume that he’s familiar with all that is Satan?”

“Yeah,” James drawled long.  “Reckon he might be.”

Rose spun quickly and poked her finger into Lucifer’s chest.  “Be subtle,” she warned darkly.  “My kids are here, and I don’t want them in any more danger than they’re already putting themselves in by not stayin’ in the TARDIS.”

“That’s right, Mum,” Liz sang.  “Throw out that guilt.”

Rose extended her finger toward Liz in warning, but she kept the other finger against Lucifer’s chest and her eyes glued to his.  “Can you keep it low-key?”

He shoved her hand down with a swipe of his own.  He leaned down to speak hotly against her nose.  “Lower than the key itself.”

He pulled himself free of the tractor beam that was Rose’s glare and lightly pushed past her with a touch of his hands on her shoulder.  He maintained his gentle contact until his reach was exhausted and drew himself to a proud gait that walked him toward the man, who was chewing on a toothpick in a manner one would expect from a Spaghetti Western Movie Cowboy.

“Well hello,” he called out cheerfully as he crossed a dusty road and pulled up at the very edge of what he considered a respectable personal zone.  “I wonder if you could help me with something.”

“You could help yourself by moving along,” the man answered flatly with a twang in his voice that Lucifer had long grown used to on his travels between his clubs in LA and Las Vegas.   That stereotypical American drawl.

Father, he hated that accent … at least that very _specific_ one.

“Well,” he purred with a heavier emphasis on his more _proper_ British brogue.  “That’s not very charitable of you at all, is it?”

“No charity here,” he drawled in reply.  “Now move along.”

“Look,” Lucifer continued with a smile that was slowly turning into something dark.  “Landed here by accident with my wife and kids.  We meant to meet someone here, but got lost along the way…”

His eyes lit up.  “You have a _ship_ , then?”

“Yes.  Yes I do,” Lucifer confirmed.  “But you can’t have it, so don’t bother asking.”

“I don’t _ask_ ,” he corrected with threat in his voice.  “I take.”

“Yes,” Lucifer breathed out.  “I’m sure you do, and you are most welcome to give it a try, of course.  But before you make the single most ridiculous error you’ll ever make in your rather pathetic and limited life, how about you tell me what I want to know?”

“I know nothing,” he stated.  He then grinned a mouthful of gaps and yellowed teeth.  “Except that your ship is now mine.”

“Again,” Lucifer breathed out impatiently.  “You can _try_ to take it, but I truly don’t fancy your chances.”

“If I kill you,” he growled in reply.  “Then my chances increase rather spectacularly, don’t they?”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully and gave a nod.  “Well.  Yes.  Of course.  But that would have to mean that you would be able to actually _kill_ me, then, doesn’t it.”  He laughed with a shake of his head.  “Which, I have to tell you, isn’t something you – or anyone else – is ever going to be able to do.”

He quickly drew a blaster from his belt and stuck it into Lucifer’s belly.  “You really sure you want to put that to the test?”

“Oh,” he whined with disappointment.  “I’d really love to issue that dare to you.  I would.  But I promised the missus that I’d keep this little conversation we’re having would be kept low-key and unassuming.”  He looked down at the gun and then back up to his _Cowboy_.  “I would think that firing off a blaster in the middle of the day in a bustling market place might party it up, some.”

The man snorted.

“Not that I mind a party,” Lucifer said with a curl in his lip as his smile.  “I’m rather partial to the general drunken debauchery of a well organized event.”  His eyes steeled and shifted to lock on the man in front of him.  “But I think our opinions of what constitutes a good party differ, and I’m really low on time.”

The man jerked as though to shift roughly out of the way of Lucifer, but was quickly held in place by the lock of their eyes.  He gulped a little.  “What do you want?” he asked hoarsely, still trying to find his will to fight.  “I.  I mean it.  I won’t give you what you…”

“Oh, I think this can be a good game of what you _really_ want and what you’ll do to get it versus what _I_ want and what you think you can do to prevent me from getting it.”

“Who?” the man questioned as he writhed awkwardly under Lucifer’s stare.  “Who are you?”

Lucifer hummed.  “I’m the one who has the power to see inside your soul and pull out your most hidden desire.”  He chuckled.  “Oh, and isn’t it a good one?  Tell me.  Do you want all of your criminal friends to know just what it is that you desire most in this entire universe?”

The man shook his head.  “You can’t…”

“Oh,” he chuckled.  “ _I_ won’t.  Your desires are yours to reveal _Sampson Xavier Redman_.”

“How did you?”

“Tell me, Samson,” he continued, maintaining his piercing stare.  “Tell me – and everyone here – just what it is that you desire most.  What is that dirty little secret of yours that you don’t want anyone else to know, but you wish – oh you wish – it would come to you.”

He gasped and gagged as he fought against the building need to vocalize this need.  “I want – I want it all,” he gaped.  “I want to overthrow the family leaders and control this entire planet.”

Lucifer laughed a series of “oh ho ho”.  He ignored the worried and soft call of his name from Rose and stepped closer to the man, even taking his dusty lapels in his hands to hold him in place.  “You don’t _just_ want to overthrow them,” he purred.  “Tell me, and _them_ what you _really_ want to do.”

“Kill them,” he growled in reply.  He was aware of the growing crowd around them, and of the curious murmurs and gasps, as well as growls of displeasure and threat.  He couldn’t stop the words from passing through his lips.  “I want to kill them all.  I want to dance on their rotted corpses and drink spirits from their hollowed out skulls.”

“A man after my own heart, I see,” Lucifer said with a chuckle.  “And they’re no doubt very deserving of it.”

“They are useless.  Pathetic.  Morons.” The man continued.  There was a wince in his expression that made it obvious that his words were spoken involuntarily, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.  “I want their power, and I’ll take it.”

“I can make it happen, Sampson,” Lucifer purred enticingly.  “Tell me what I want to know, and you will have every disgusting little thoughts of murder and mayhem become a reality.”  He stepped in closer and dipped his head to lock on tighter to the connection between the two men.  “And I don’t want much in return.  Not much at all.  You only need to tell me where to find the Time Lord.”

“F-Find the who?” the man asked with confusion.

“Time Lord,” Lucifer repeated with careful enunciation of his words.  “The one they call the _Doctor_.  I’m looking for him, and you’re going to tell me where he is.”

“I-I cant?”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed.  “Oh, but you’d better,” he warned.  “Because now everyone here knows your deepest and darkest desires of overthrowing and killing the most powerful people on this planet.  If I don’t help you, then …”  He smirked.  “Then, I can’t help you, can I?”

Rose’s voice warned softly behind him.  “Lucifer.  This isn’t fair.  Stop it, please?”

He hummed out his negative to her request.  “No, Rose.  I’ve seen inside this man’s soul.  I’ve seen what he’s done.”  His lips pursed with disgust. 

“They’ll kill him,” she warned desperately.

“And he’d deserve it,” he snarled in reply.  He thrust his fists hard against the man’s lapel.  “Now.  I told you to tell me where the Time Lord is.”

“I d-don’t know,” the man stuttered in reply.  He shook his head with eyes full of panic.  I don’t know what a Time Lord is.”

Lucifer narrowed his glare to focus more tightly on the man’s inner soul.  After a short moment he let out a huff and released his lapels with a shove.  “Damnit.  You don’t know anything.”

Rose gasped and looked around at the gathered crowd with panic.  “Lucifer.  Just what part of _low key_ didn’t you understand?”

“Not much of it, apparently,” he answered with a disgusted sigh.  He flicked his hand at the man, who leaned against the wall with his hand against his chest and struggled to catch his breath.  “This disgusting waste of intelligent life…”  he looked at him with utter disgust in his expression.  “You are truly a diabolical and disgusting Human Being, you know that?  I’ve seen evil,” his eyes widened and he nodded.  “And I mean _true_ evil.  I’ve had to deal with Hitler, and Goebels, Bin Laden … all sorts of deplorable souls who are – and definitely _should_ be rotting away in the deepest dungeons of Hell.”  He rubbed at his brow.  “And you know what, I _wish_ I could expedite your trip and drag you down there myself.”

Rose practically glided on the floor toward Lucifer.  There was as much warning as there was pleading in her eyes.  “You can’t let them kill him.  You can’t.”

He drew his hand from his face and looked at her without any sympathy at all.  “Oh.  I can.  I fully intend on letting them do it.”

“And they’re only doing it because you forced their hand,” she argued with a snarl and a narrowing of her eyes.  “If you didn’t interfere, then they wouldn’t even be considering it.”

“So?”

“So,” she answered.  “So you’re to blame, aren’t you?”  Her eyes twitched.  “You may as well be pulling the trigger.”  She inhaled somewhat hopefully.  “Which goes against everything, now, doesn’t it?”

Lucifer’s face went completely blank.  He growled low in the very back of his throat and then slid his eyes to meet hers.

“Are you always _this_ compassionate – even when the bad guy really is on a level that even _I_ want him gone?”

Rose didn’t answer vocally, but the widening of her eyes pretty much answered that question.

“Fine,” he growled.  “Just.  Fine.”  He spun toward the approaching mass of people and lowered his head aggressively.  His shoulders hunched and he rolled his head to one side with obvious threat.

“No one.  And I mean absolutely no one will harm this pathetic waste of carbon.  Am I understood?”

There were murmurs that pretty much assured Lucifer that no one was going to listen to him.  So he inhaled deep, curled his lip and let a growl ripple through his teeth as he let his eyes flash red and his true form show past his human disguise.  He grinned at the gasps of horror and the sudden backward movement of every single man on approach.

“I am the ruler of hell.  The punisher.  The one who determines just what kind of eternity you can expect once your worthless flea-ridden bodies are done on this earth.”    He snorted with disgust.  “And I have declared myself the protector of this piece of shit.”  His eyes traveled along the group.  “Anyone touches him in a way that might in some way kill him – then your soul is going to answer to me.”  He grinned darkly, his red eyes blazing even against the searing heat of the day.  “And trust me.  You really don’t want to come to my little party.”

His grin darkened to a level of absolute filth.  “Am I understood?  Yes?  Good.  Now.  Off you all scamper like the disgusting little rats you are.”

He held his form until the crowd has dispersed.  His eyes watched the path of each and every person, and when the last footfalls were heard rounding a corner in the distance, he let himself fall back into disguise and straightened his shirt.

“Well,” he said with a roll in his eye.  “I think that went…”  He stopped when he saw the fury in Rose’s eye.  He slouched.  “Oh come on.  What?”  He pointed to the now empty alley way.  “They’ve all scampered away.  They’re all going to leave him alone now.  Your conscience can be clear of any involvement – although I might remark that you can be held responsible for any and all heinous acts he commits in the future.”

She ignored that.

“Just what part of keeping it low and not making a big scene escaped you, Lucifer?”

“All of it, I reckon,” Liz answered with a giggle.  “Showman, right down to the end.  Just brilliant.”

“No,” Rose argued.  “There was _nothing_ brilliant about that!  That was careless and ultimately incredibly pointless.  All we’ve managed to do is scare the locals by letting them know that the Devil is messin about on their planet.”

“Which really isn’t a bad thing,” Lucifer ventured with a smile.  “Now that they know I’m here, we just might …”

“Might, what?” she snapped.  “Might get the Doctor _killed_ is what might happen.”  She panted with panic.  “You’ve scared the shit out of ‘em, and now that fear is going to get the Doctor killed.”

“Regenerated,” Lucifer countered weakly.  “And that might not be a bad thing.  Perhaps he might come back as something really pretty that you might really like to play with.”

“I don’t _want_ a new Doctor,” she snapped.  “I just want him.  Him the way he was when I left him in the alley to come find you.”  She shook her head and her voice softened.  “I don’t care what he looks like, Lucifer.  I care who he is, and I like him now.  Gruff and temperamental, but still playful and wonderful.”

Lucifer hummed.  “Then maybe you might want to tell him that, yeah?”

James cleared his throat.  “You know, Mum.  There _is_ a way to find the old man.”

She breathed out a single syllable in the negative.

“You know it’ll work,” he kept on.  “Always worked with Dad when you two got separated.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.  “But that was your Dad, Jamie.  The Doctor and me, we aren’t like that.  It won’t work.”

James grinned and thrust his hands into his pockets.  “Still worth a shot, though.”

Rose shook her head.  “No.  It’s.  It’s too dangerous.”

“Nah,” James drawled.  “I mean, okay.  It means that he gets a bit aggressive for a bit and might pound at his chest and prowl about … but at least we can find him, yeah?” 

“We can always control him, Mum,” Liz offered.  “You know that.  And the Doctor, well.  He’s got some decent self control and all that.  I reckon you’ll be okay.”

Lucifer looked between the trio; to James and Liz’s eager and encouraging eyes, and then toward Rose’s apprehensive and worried expression.  “Uh.  So what are you considering, then?”

Rose spared him a look.  “Oh.  You don’t want to know.”

Liz sighed.  “Oh come on, Mum.  Even though he’s been a bit of a git, we still have to help him out.”  She bumped her mother with her hip.  “And as you always tell us, we will always do _everything we can_ to make sure that we’re all safe, and that we’re all together.”

“You would throw that at me,” Rose said with a sigh.  That sigh turned to a wince and a whimper and she closed her eyes as she shook her hands at her side.  “I really hope we know what we’re doing.  If there are other Time Lords anywhere else on this planet…”

“I reckon you’re okay,” James muttered.  “The Doc will have you well and truly covered.”  He chuckled.  “Literally.”

Rose’s eyes opened slowly and she looked helplessly toward Lucifer as she felt tingles in the tips of her fingers.  “I apologise in advance, Lucifer,” she warned.  “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Lucifer asked, confused.

Rose’s eyes flashed open wide as her hands lit up with hot and swirling amber energies.   Concentration took hold as her expression shifted to absolute and utter concentration.   She let out a long and seductive purr.

“Oh, _Doctor_ ,” she cooed as well as growled. 

Liz chuckled and clutched onto her brother’s hand.  “Come on, you.  She slapped at Lucifer’s chest with the back of his hand as she followed behind her mother, who had begun a purposeful stalk along a deserted street.

“You too, Lucifer.”  She smirked.  “Looks like things are about to get _reallllly_ interesting.”


	15. Mate Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Discovery Channel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather odd kind of premise that I'm playing with here... I'd like to say that I'm one of the first to explore this idea, but I'm fairly certain that other writers may have battled it before me ... I just haven't been fortunate enough to read it yet.
> 
> This is a filler chapter only in that I needed some explanations as to what's going on in my head.... I also wanted to put a little bit of something about Lucifer's current romantic quandary in here ... Give him something to think about when they take him back to Earth. There are plenty of parallels between Lucifer/Decker and Doctor/Rose, and not just the physical appearance of Decker to Rose (which is so uncanny at times that I actually gasp)... 
> 
> That said ... I really hope this makes sense.
> 
> I've used Liz and James a bit here to give an explanation of things .. I hope that isn't a turn off (never know what people think of OC's and all) ... but next chappy we get back to the Doctor and Rassilon ... and I ... can't ... wait ....! Hope you enjoy.

Rose Tyler strode along the dusty, windy trail with all the grace of a regal being.  Her head was held high.  Her chest was pushed outward in presentation of her mature and – quite magnificent – breast.  She walked a determined path with a slight sway in her hips and a purse in her full and inviting lips.

Invitation with promise of rejection, Lucifer noted curiously, as she sizzled looks of warning toward seemingly interested males who lifted their chins and inhaled the air as she passed.  His brow pinched with question as he held position at her side, in between her and James, and he turned his face toward the amused young man grinning at his side.

“So?” he drawled along a very long exhale.  “Care to fill a man in on just what’s going on here?”

James pulled at his earlobe and smirked.  “Can’t figure it out?”

“More like I’m not sure I want to,” he admitted dryly.  “Because if it’s what I think it is, we’re not nearly enough armed to get out of this in one piece.”

James shrugged and slid his hands into his trouser pockets as he walked with a skip to keep up.  “Ahh.  I wouldn’t be too worried about the sniffing males prowling about the edges of our periphery,” he said with a sigh.  “That lot.  They know better.  If there is a Gallifreyan anywhere near…”  He flared his eyes and blew out a breath.  “Well.  Let’s just say that steering clear is in their best interests.”

Liz leaned around her mother to talk across Rose’s breasts at the two men.  “How _you_ holding up against it, Lucy?”

“The name is _Lucifer_ ,” he corrected with a groan.  “And I’m holding up very well, all things considered.  I might be viewed as being a bit of a _lad_ , but that’s got nothing to do with the _calling card_ of a female seeking out a mate.”   He shook his head.  “I’m rather above such things, thank you.”

“Above _sex_?” James asked doubtfully.

“No,” Lucifer drawled with a smile.  “I’m always quite willing to engage – if you will – but only with a truly receptive partner.”

“Which a female issuing a mating call tends to be,” James countered with a smirk.

“A mating call by any female is made toward a specific species,” he corrected.  He thumbed at his nose and looked off to the side.  His voice took on a rather distant tone.  “I’m a celestial being that is far above this nonsense of mating calls.”

“Not above falling in love, though,” Liz teased.  Her mouth gaped open and her eyes flared wide when she saw him fit to argue.  “And don’t even bother with that shit about Celestial beings not being capable of love or any of that shit.”  She rolled her eyes and straightened her back.  Her voice fell to the level of passive-aggressive.   “You’ve got timelines – I can read them.”

Lucifer stopped in his tracks, enough to smoke out the dust at his feet.  He glared at Liz across Rose’s back as she continued walking ahead.  His tone of voice held challenge and slight aggression.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t quite get that.  What did you just say?”

James’ voice purred darkly over his shoulder in a tone full of warning.

“I believe my sister – who you should note has a Time Lord as her defender…”

“I’m not scared of a Time Lord,” Lucifer interrupted on a low voice.

James hummed with amusement in his head.  “As I was saying.  My _sister_ mentioned the existence of Timelines and her ability to read and interpret them.”  He smiled when Lucifer turned to face him with an expression of surprise.  “Yes.  You, too, have distinct time lines.”  He pointed up for dramatic effect and seemed to pluck an invisible string in the air.  “Very long and unending, of course, but with as many twists and turns as everyone else – immortal or not.”

“And just what, exactly, does that have to do with whether or not I’ve ever had love?”

Rose’s voice, smooth and amused, answered the question on her son’s behalf.

“All of life’s choices affect your timeline in some way, Lucifer.”  She strode up toward him and pressed her hand into his chest.  “You made a couple of key timeline altering decisions in recent months.”  She kept her palm held against his breast, and petted lightly at it with the pads of her fingers.  “And none of them for your own gain – _Mr. Devil_.”

“This might be a good point for you to back off a little,” he warned through a sneer.  “I don’t particularly like it when people try and interfere in my life.”

“Yet it’s quite okay for you to interfere in the lives and loves of others,” she countered with a sneer of her own.  “The Doctor – my husband – told me all about how you worked to get your deal made with him.”

He snorted in reply, but said nothing.

Rose’s voice softened.  “Whoever she is,” she began.  “She means the universe to you.  Stop holding yourself back.”

He swatted at her hand to roughly push it from his chest.  “She was a plant – a ruse orchestrated by my father…”

“And that makes her less worthy, Lucifer?” she interrupted with a smile. 

“It makes her a lie,” he growled.  “Nothing but a manipulation of my father to-“

“She’s a _gift_ ,” Rose corrected forcibly.  “Someone created _for_ you.  Someone who is _compatible_ with you.”

“Stay out of it,” he snarled.  “You have no idea.”

She smiled, shrugged, and then spun on the ball of her foot to begin her determined path once more.  “Don’t I?”

His shoulders heaved with furious breaths as he watched her leave.  There was a red glow in his eye, a grimace on his face, and a curl in his fists as he warred against his own instinct to punish her for …

…Punish her for _what_?  She wasn’t being cruel.  She wasn’t using this … situation … he’d found himself in with Detective Decker against him.

“Love is love,” Liz offered tenderly with a stroke of her hand along his arm.  “And no matter how it ends up on our path, we really should embrace it.”

“One,” James countered with a flick of his finger up into his sister’s face.  “You and _love_ of the _romantic_ kind – not till you’re 250!”  He growled at the roll in her eyes.  “And Two.”  He looked toward Lucifer.  “Two: You’re at a fork in the road right now, Man.  A fork that is going to determine the rest of your existence.”

“Meaning what?” he huffed.

“Redemption or condemnation,” James’ replied with a nonchalant shrug and a slide of his hands into his trouser pockets.  He dipped forward to rock back on his heels and inhaled so deeply that his voice became quite breathy.  “You’ve learned a lot about yourself and who you should be – who you are better off being – having Chloe at your side.”  He sniffed and shrugged again as he lifted a finger to circled it in the air in a gesture to an invisible tree above them.  “The new branches on your tree are very lovely – not just a gnarled stick anymore, yeah?”

Liz hummed in agreement.  “Dad tiptoed around that junction for a bit after meetin’ mum,” she offered.  “He had the same questions.”

“And how did that turn out for him?” he snarled in reply.

“Well,” she drawled with a creasing of one side of her face.  “Depends which one, yeah?  Dad, as in, well, _Dad_.  He chose the path of redemption.  Embraced Mum and her love something fierce.”  She looked to James with a smile.  “And he had a great life right up to the end.  He was a great man who did so much good and loved every minute of it.”  He smile faltered.  “The Doctor.  Well.  He opted the other direction, didn’t he?  Look how that ended up for him.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened and he looked down.

James continued softly.  “He became everything he never wanted to be.  Mum.  Well, mum made him better.  Without her guidance, he fell apart.  He let the wrong people steer him in the absolute opposite direction of where he needed to go.”

“And he’s _still_ recovering,” Liz finished softly.  “He thinks can’t shake his past while he’s still in _that_ body.  Cant’ cuddle.  Can’t show affection.  Can’t be like Dad, right?  He keeps telling Mum that he’ll regenerate for her.”  She closed her eyes in a slow blink and smiled wistfully.  “But Mum.  Well mum won’t have any of that now, will she?  Doesn’t think anyone should have’ta change just to please someone else.  Gotto change ‘cause _you_ want to, right?”

“Which is why you need to choose,” James said with a wink.  “You’re changing right now cause you want to – take the wrong path and you’ll change because you think you have to.”

He exhaled a breath.  “Neither of you make any sense.”

“Yeah we do,” Liz sang.  She looped her arm around his and tugged him forward.  “You just need to listen, right?  You’re a smart man.”

He moaned and nodded, more to shut them both up than to actually agree with either of them.  He strode behind Rose and beside James.  Liz was wrapped around him arm snickering occasional giggles at James warning off all marauding males with a glare and a snarl.

Seems that the pull from this particular mating call was pretty potent.  Rose was obviously sensing a pull of her own toward a compatible mate – he assumed was the Doctor – and strode purposefully along a road that led them from the rustic market place and out toward the drylands…

…Which was never a _good_ place to end up.

He looked up toward the sky in wonder as to when it would be nightfall and whether or not they’d find any form of reliable shelter for the night from any and all creatures that go bump … growl … bite ….

“Does the Devil get scared?” Liz cooed facetiously with a stroke of her hand along his arm. 

“Not about most things,” he answered on a breath.  He looked around them.  “But here we are, on a different planet, in a different time…”

“Exhilarating, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he answered on a breath.  “You could say that.”  His curiosity to his surroundings heightened when he noticed a dark grey building standing tall over the shimmering watery visual distortion of the mirage toward the horizon.   He tipped his head and licked at his lip as his eyes flicked toward Rose and he noticed a renewed determined expression cross her face.

She strode forward and lifted her chin to inhale deeply the breeze that kissed hotly against her face.  She lifted her shimmering hands to card her fingers through her hair, smoothing any flyaway strands down with the shimmering energies that were eagerly swirling around her hands.

She hummed as she straightened her shirt and licked at her lip.  The then gave a slight little giggle.  “There you are…”

James watched his mother with a single brow curved high.  He knew that look.  He knew it well.   He pursed his lips and let out a breath out as a whistle.  “Time to look alive kids,” he warned with amusement.  “Appears Mum’s got missile lock on the old man.  Shouldn’t be too long till he breaks out of whatever dungeon he’s found himself in and runs all Wile E. Coyote through multiple brick walls to get to her.”

Lucifer lifted a brow at that.  “You’re _kidding_ , right?”

His eyes were wide and his lips pursed to one side.  He shook his head.  “Wish I could say I was.”  He shuddered.  “This mating thing with Gallifreyans.  Well.  It’s kind’ve potent.  Dad would damn near lose his mind when mum triggered it.”

Lucifer’s mouth floundered somewhat as he tried to reconcile that image with what he’d always understood about Time Lords … they just didn’t do that sort of thing….

“The loomed it out of them,” Liz offered by way of explanation. 

He looked down at her and made a dumb sound of question.

“You were trying to resolve the image of a horny Gallifreyan in Mate-Guarding mode versus the stoic and unfeeling Time Lords you _think_ you know.”

“How…?”

“Touch-telepath,” she answered with a sigh.  “Could feel your question.”  She looked down to where her arm curled around the bare skin at his wrist.  “And to solve your mental quandary, the Time Lords basically loomed the ability for a Gallifreyan female to mate-call the Lords.  It was … well … for lack of a better descript, _inconvenient_ for the society that Rassilon was trying to create to have the ladies mate-calling the lords… If you get my meaning.”

“ _Loomed out of them_ means what, exactly?”

“Genetic manipulation for the most part,” Liz answered.  “Chuck out all the bits that Rassilon and his cronies figured weren’t conducive to the society of ass-wearing rods…”

“Nice,” James said with a moan. 

“Oh tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged.

“Wish I could.”

Lucifer watched Rose ahead of them and tilted his head curiously.  “So.  The mating urge was taken away from their species through this looming process,” he ventured, thinking out loud more than anything.  “Which means that there shouldn’t be any way that your mother could call out to him and expect a response.”

Liz hummed with amusement.  “Well.  You’d be right if Mum was a Gallifreyan-loomed Time Lady.  She’s not.”

Lucifer hummed to ask for further clarification.

Liz didn’t let him down.  “Pheromones are released only by female Gallifreyans.  The Males have receptors for it, but can’t initiate.   Part of the chemical makeup of the hormone and pheromone receptors are required for regeneration, so they couldn’t eliminate it from the male population.  Best to sterilize the women instead.”

“Go on,” Lucifer urged knowing there was going to be much more.

“Well.  Me and Mum.  We aren’t loomed,” Liz continued without skipping.  “Naturally occurring Time Ladies we are.  Little pinch of the Time Vortex back when mum was still juvenile…”

“A pinch?” James shot back incredulously.  “That was a little more than just a pinch.  She inhaled it entirely.”  He circled his hands around his head.  “Whole universe and all of Time inside her head.  If that’s a pinch, then I’m never eating your cooking.”

Liz rolled her eyes and dipped her head side to side.  “Oh, Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to.  Anyway.  So she was a naturally created being of Time.  This means that she was created as all of Gallifrey’s children were back before Rassilon.”  She grinned cheekily.  “Able to put a metaphorical lasso around a mate and draw him on in.”

“And any other Gallifreyan male who happens to be in the vicinity,” James added with a shrug.  “Two blokes battle it out, the Alpha gets the girl.  You know.  Nature channel kind of stuff.”

Lucifer gulped uneasily.  “So.  If I’m understanding you right.  Then Gallifreyan males.  They _Mate Guard_?”   He blew a whistle through his lips.  “And it gets messy?”

“From what we saw from Dad,” Liz said with a shrug.  “Yeah.  Very.  But it _was_ controllable.”

“Barely,” James groused.  “But, yeah.  So long as me and Liz were in between him and any recognizable male, it was containable.  We could bring him out of it easily enough.   Usually only took about an hour or so, and he was good.”

“I see,” Lucifer managed along a quiet voice.  His eyes were on Rose and her sly smirk as she stalked determinedly along the road.   “Barely containable?”

“It was tough, but yeah, and the more Mum used that to find him, the easier it got to contain him.”  He shrugged and poked out his lower lip slightly.  “Guess he got used to it.”  He hummed curiously.  “Can’t quite remember how we fared after the first effort, come to think about it.  Happened purely by accident –  Mum would never get into just why it was when we were out shopping that all of a sudden she got it for Dad so badly.  I was pretty young, just a kid – like tiny.  An’ all I recall from it is Mum suddenly going all strange and groaning out for Dad, and then him barreling though the mall with a bloody disaster trail following in his wake.  Damn near ripped the head off a bloke who just happened to be standing near her.  I remember _that_ bit.”

“Uh-huh,” Lucifer said slowly.  “And your dad.  He was only _half_ Gallifreyan, am I right?”

He heard them both hitch their breaths.

“And the Doctor is a _full_ Gallifreyan male who has quote possibly never been exposed to a natural mating call before, and therefore wouldn’t be in any way equipped to try and subdue his responses to it.”

“Yeah,” James drawled with a wince.  “Shit.”

“Shit indeed.”  Lucifer whimpered out a chuckle.  “Oh, this is about to get _very_ interesting, isn’t it?”  He pursed his lips and sucked against his teeth.  “Add to that I just referred to your mother as my _wife_ , and could be viewed as a rather hot piece of competition for your Mum’s affection.”

“It gets worse than that,” Liz offered with panic in her voice.

Lucifer moaned.  “I really don’t think I want to know _how_ it can be any worse.”

“You’re dealing with You’re dealing with _Tylers_ ,” James said with a groan.  “Our motto is:  It doesn’t matter how bad you think it’s gotten, it’s only gonna get worse.”

“Sensational,’ he moaned as he swiped his palm down his face.  He looked toward Liz.  “So how is it worse, then, _sweetheart_?”

“The Doctor’s not the only Gallifreyan here.”  She looked to her brother with fear in her eye and was startled by the sudden wide-eyed confused and questioning expression on his face.  Her eyes widened and she pulled away from Lucifer to hold her brother’s arms in a tight and urgent grip.  “Concentrate, Jamie.  Concentrate and reach out.  There are more than just our familial telepathic signatures here.”  She gulped.  “More than just us and the Doctor.”

He panted with his eyes locked on hers as he stretched out and spread his telepathic arms into the distance.  His knees went weak and he stumbled to feel an additional presence at the edge of his consciousness.

“Oh, hell,” he moaned out.   “And he’s male.”

As if nature willed to punctuate and make a damn decent emphasis on James’ discovery, there was a loud crash from the building that they were quickly approaching.   A haunting and primal sound unlike one that any of them had ever heard before ghosted across the hot, rocky and sandy expanse between them and the building ahead.

A smile broke out across Rose’s face and she launched into a run toward the structure.

“I think you’re right,” James whimpered out pathetically as he broke out into a run behind his mother.

“Right about what,” Lucifer panted as he grabbed Liz’ hand and made chase behind James.

“We aren’t anywhere near armed enough for this.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Doctor Who, nor do I own Lucifer. Althoughhhhhhh ... I have been told more than once that I'm the daughter of the Devil, so who knows ....


End file.
